They say everything has a price, but I never believed it. How could everything—literally everything—have a price? Surely, there must be something either worthless or priceless. Yet, no one ever talks about the structure of a price.

First of all, celebrating Christmas alone in the UK feels like a first-hand experience of lockdown. You realise how deeply people love their families when you see them travelling across countries just to spend the holidays together. For a month, with most students gone, I found myself staring at my to-do list, struggling to imagine ways to fill the days.

Then came the storm. They called it The Beast from the East.

It ruined everything.

With my plans in shambles, I decided to go trekking with a group of strangers. Loch Muick. Even now, I’d walk around that lake again in a heartbeat—it was a fun trek.

The strangers didn’t ask for money. It was a two-hour drive, and I listened to their conversations about work. One was loud and aggressive—definitely a waitress or someone in the food industry. Everything seemed too good to be true. And it was.

Though the trek cost me nothing financially, the price I paid was sharing the backseat of the car with a creature—a dog that looked like a mouse, or maybe a mouse that looked like a dog—who farted non-stop for the entire journey.

It was winter, but not just any winter. The winter of the Beast from the East. Windows stayed firmly shut, as opening them would have meant risking hypothermia. The heater was on full blast, sealing us in with that dog... and its persistent contributions to the atmosphere.

“What are you, a hooker? Where’s the rest of your pants?!”

“Oh, hello, you cannot shame someone for being in a profession that is recession-proof.”

“Idiot.”

“Asshole.”

“How are you doing with your research?”

“It is in progress.”

“You are taking so long, man. What are you doing? Are you even serious about your papers?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then, what’s the problem?!”

“I think I can speak to the stones, and the weird thing is that they do reply.”

“OH MY GOD-AA!! No, you don’t.”

“I do. You never believe a word I say. I don’t like it.”

“Because, sweetheart, it is bullshit.”

“It is not, and I can.”

“This is not ordinary bullshit that you give daily. This is like super king-size bullshit.”

“Why are you always mean to me?!”

“Because you are full of crap.”

Zoe smiled.

“Do you want to walk or take the elevators? You can find potential customers in there.”

“Sure, but can we walk for now? I want to do a free show as well.”

“Sure. I just enjoy it like any other man.”

Zoe laughed.

“Okay, let’s take the elevator,” Zoe said.

“Okay. Zoe?!”

“Hmm?!”

“I was wondering, do you want to hear it?”

“Sure, I will also deny it, but yes.”

“If you think about it, you would find that religious people and non-religious people are the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not talking about agnostics or people who go, ‘I believe in God but don’t practise religion,’ no, I’m talking about legit religious people who dedicate their life to religion and legit non-religious people who resent religions, as they hate it.”

“How are they the same?!”

“They share the same characteristics.”

“Like?!”

“They both disregard the opposite belief system and enforce their own on others.”

“Oh, yeah!! Great observation.”

“Unlike your ‘I CAN TALK TO THE STONES.’”

“Fuck off!!”

They got inside the elevator. There was a couple and an old man.

“Potential customers,” Ortus whispered.

Zoe hit him with her elbow. Ortus could see the boy looking at Zoe through the reflection.

“My God!! He’s a fan,” Ortus said.

Zoe, embarrassed.

“Make it stop, please.”

“Do you still talk to the stones?”

“ORTUS!!” Zoe screamed in a whisper.

“Okay, it appears he’d dive into it.”

“Eww!! Couldn’t you be a little respectful? Would you do anything before he strips me down completely with his eyes? I’m not even sure how far he’s gone by now.”

Ortus switched places with Zoe. She looked down, embarrassed. He turned her face towards his, while he looked straight at the side of the boy’s face. Soon, the boy started looking everywhere but at Zoe; he dared not to look at Ortus, who wasn’t even blinking.

“Zoe, could you tell me more about the stone, please? I am very eager to hear about it”

Zoe smiled.

“It is midnight, and Jolene is waiting for Oliver in a cabin next to the lake. The air is breezing cold, and the whistling of night birds is creeping her out. She is carrying a stun gun and pepper spray in case any animal or intruder attacks, but the horror is still sitting on her face.

‘This is so stupid. I should not have come. Where the hell is he? Maybe I should leave,’ Jolene murmurs.

She intends to call Oliver for the last time, and then leave if he doesn’t respond. And she hears a car coming. She goes to the back of the cabin and recognises the car. She walks out and rushes towards him in anger.

‘Where the hell have you been? It scared me to death. Is this a place to leave your girlfriend alone? And what happened to your phone?’ she yells.

‘Jolene, I am here now. There is no reason to be afraid anymore,’ he says and kisses her. ‘Better?’

‘Why did you want me here? What is it you want to show me?’

‘Patience, my love. Walk with me and you’ll find out by yourself.’

Then he takes out a small piece of cloth and asks her to blindfold herself. She refuses. It angers Oliver and he exhales.

‘It is a special place I want to show you, but I will not walk unless you put it on. We can just go back from here if that is what you want,’ he sounds desperate.

Jolene didn’t want to disappoint Oliver because the day she met him, her life flipped upside down.

He says, ‘It is something that I’ve been planning for months.’

‘Fine. You better not try to kill me. Everyone knows I am with you,’ she smirks and puts on the blindfold.

Oliver holds her hand and strolls. After a while, he gives her a coin and asks her to keep it safe and not lose it.

‘What is it for?’ she asks.

‘Enough with your questions already. You will find out soon. Now keep quiet and walk. I don’t want to be a wild animal’s dinner,’ he says.

They walk for a while, then he removes the blindfold. He points at an abandoned chapel. Twenty years ago, local people set fire to the chapel in order to build a new one closer to the city. Someone rumoured that evil spirits formed it, but many believe that it was a made-up story to avoid animal attacks. Jolene wonders about the rays of light coming out of the chapel’s window, scattering through the glass and creating a mesmerising ambience outside it.

Jolene seems scared, but Oliver’s unbothered and his brave presence encourages her to fight against fear. Although she grabs Oliver’s arm and says nothing. As they reach the door, he asks her to put the silver coin inside a box that is kept next to it. She does as he says, and the box opens. Oliver takes out a silver masquerade and gives it to her.

‘Happy anniversary,’ he says.

She loves it.

‘I made it for you,’ he says.

‘You never miss surprising me, Oliver.’

‘Come on, put it on.’

And she does.

It has been a year since Jolene has been with Oliver, and often he surprises her in unique ways. He always wears matching clothes without her saying, and it complements them as a couple. People cannot look away when they see them together. Most of Jolene’s friends envy her because they desire the same.

Oliver dives into Jolene’s eyes as if he is searching for something, and it makes her feel things she has never felt about herself.

She feels desired whenever Oliver talks to her. She could not imagine what to expect next, but she feels protected with Oliver.

‘Come on, put it on.’

And she does.

‘Marvellous,’ Oliver whispers in her ear.

Then he pushes the door open and all she can see is a mirror that’s glowing in the middle of the hall.

‘Oh no, I forgot something. Just wait here. Do not go inside until I am back.’ And Oliver ran before Jolene could say anything.

‘Great. Why does he have to do all this? Doesn’t he already know that he has my heart? What am I supposed to do here? Talk to the dead, I guess.’

She waits for a while, but it is getting chilly, and she looks back to find him but sees nothing in the dark. Meanwhile, the glowing mirror tempts her. It is the reason behind the beautiful ambience. She notices that there’s a cemetery next to the chapel. It appears to be gothic, and it doesn’t take long for fear running through her veins again as she walks inside.

As she does, the door closes. She screams out of shock, and the whole chapel echoes. Oliver has put a candle in every corner and its reflection through the mirror lights the entire hall. As she walks towards the mirror, she hears a whisper as Oliver whispered a few moments ago and feels as if someone is walking behind her.

‘It is all your imagination. Oliver will be back soon and everything will be alright,’ she consoles herself.

As she gets closer to the mirror, she realises it feels like silver too, but soon forgets about it when she notices her mirrored image.

‘Oh, you are beautiful and mysterious,’ she says.

She always envied people with less pale skin than hers, and the thought itself tormented her for years until she met Oliver. Oliver gave her the love and support she desired, made her feel beautiful and different.

For once, she forgot about Oliver while beholding herself in the mirror. She walks around to find out what else Oliver had arranged and every time she passes by the mirror, she cannot stop to take a glimpse.

‘So, this is how it feels to be beautiful. Sharon stands no chance in front of you anymore,’ she giggles. ‘I never thought that I’d ever say that.’

Still, there’s no sign of Oliver, and now it worries her. The door seems to be stuck. She looks for another way out, but there is none. She sees a broken window opposite the mirror. Before she goes out, she stops to take one last glimpse at the mirror and she sees Oliver behind her. Before she can turn, he pushes her into the mirror and she falls.

‘Have you lost your mind?’ she screams at him and gets back up.

And the hall smells like ashes. There is no Oliver, or the candles, or any way out, not even the door. It is all gone.

She runs all around in terror; she screams out for help, and there is no echo as well. There is indeed a mirror but not made of silver, but wood. It is all cracked. As she touches her face, the mask feels like wood, and her skin is dry and wrinkled. She looks in the mirror and finds her clothes to be torn and filthy.

As she tries to take off the mask, she fails, and it hurts, and her face bleeds. She runs around to find an escape but finds no way out. The door’s even gone. She collapses on the ground and feels lifeless.

When she feels a soft touch on her shoulder, she turns, and it is an old woman with a silver masquerade on her face. She looks just like her but is old.

‘Don’t be afraid, you will be safe here,’ she whispers in her ear and disappears.

‘Why me? Why me?’ she cries and faints.

When she opens her eyes, she finds herself in her room, and her mother is knocking on her door. She rushes to open the door and hugs her mother.

‘Come for breakfast; it is your favourite,’ her mother says.

She looks in the mirror, and her skin is pale as always. She takes a deep breath of relief.

‘It was just a dream, thank god.’

She gets to the kitchen and finds her father is reading the newspaper as usual, and she smells eggs.

‘I don’t want eggs. You said that you are making my favourite.’

‘It is your favourite.’

‘Never mind. Have you seen my phone?’

‘Your what?’

‘Phone.’

‘What phone?’

Jolene notices the date in the newspaper. It is dated twenty years back from now.

‘They are burning the chapel today,’ her father says.

‘Are you going too?’ her mother asks.

‘Of course I am. Evil spirits have taken over that chapel.’

Jolene checks her pocket and finds the silver coin that Oliver gave her yesterday.”

A man stood at the window, looking at the fading sun from a skyscraper, holding a stone. His desk was covered with all kinds of illuminating rocks, with a corner filled with many broken ones, and the floor was covered with gold-like dust around the mess. As the sky darkened, he walked to the corner where there were broken stones and threw the one in his on the wall. An emerging light came out as the stone cracked open and the gold dust. He inhaled it all as if it was his last breath and fainted.

*

Wake up, son!! You can’t sleep in here.

The voice woke him up.

Where am I?

Are you on drugs, son?! How old are you?

I know you. You are the one who looks after this place.

Yes, I do. Please leave, your parents must be worrying about you, it is not safe here.

*

He got up and ran until he found the fountain he was looking for. He looked at his face. He was in the transition; he went to the nearest convenience store and checked up on the time, and then the newspaper for the date.

He asked the till boy for directions to the water tower, and as he got there, he found his grandmother’s place. It was not the first time he was there. Every decision he made and action he was taking was either wasted or utilised wisely.

He remembered all the wrong choices that he made each time he was there and determined not to repeat them. He ran inside his grandma’s house and ignored her, went straight to the basement and looked for an old chest.

*

Matteo. What are you looking for?

Nothing that concerns you.

What happened to you? You have never talked to me like this.

I am sorry, but I will tell you if I find it.

Matteo. Matteo.

*

He didn’t reply and kept searching. An hour went by and then he finally found it, and amongst all the other chests, and before he could open it, he fainted again. When he woke up, he found himself back in the room with the rocks. He took his pen out and drew the chest.

“Wooden chest, lion lock, brown and cracked, unlocked, at the back,” he wrote.

Checked the clock and it was close to midnight. He walked out of the room, leaving the note on the table.

Matteo had been leading a very private yet simple life. In the daylight, he functioned as an architect. After the sun sets, he vanishes.

It was another evening, and he repeated his action from the other day. He looked at the sun setting after it was dark and he broke the stone and fainted after inhaling the gold dust.

When he opened his eyes, he was drowning.

*

Oh, no. Shit.

*

Abruptly, Matteo woke with terror in his eyes.

*

God. Please show me the way, please.

*

He pleaded and looked at the ceiling with disappointment in his eyes. The next morning, he cancelled all his meetings, took the blueprint out, multiple locations were marked cross, and he took a pen and marked his grandmother’s place. Twenty years after that, she was gone, but he was seeing her now and then.

Later that evening, he picked another rock, but it didn’t break. He picked another one, and it didn’t break either. It maddened him.

*

The stone can only be broken if your intention is pure, if not it will not, you can never be in charge of where the gold dust will take you, but you can let the stone know what you are seeking and it will lead your way.

*

A voice whispered in his ear.

*

The next day, he made a reservation to see his sister. It was the arrangement that she agreed to after they lost their parents. A last promise that they both honour. He took Aria to the finest restaurant in the town; he sent a car to pick her up and when she arrived; he was already there waiting.

Her gown was losing a thread from the side, which Matteo noticed.

It had been eight years since they had talked to each other, but to honour the last wishes of their parent, they saw each other once a month. Matteo tried several times, but Aria never accepted his help. She led a different life than Matteo, living in a small apartment in the suburbs with her son, who was homeschooled by her. Matteo dared not to speak to her, knowing it was all his fault, and he’d do anything to make it right.

While she ate, he looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. She finished eating and left without even saying anything or making eye contact with Matteo.

Once Matteo offered to at least pay for her son’s education but Aria tore the cheque and mailed it back to his penthouse.

Seeing her go, he shed a tear, while rubbing the stone he held, then he left as well.

*

How far are you willing to go? Could you lose it all for what you desire?

Matteo was left hopeless, yet even after knowing the consequences, he broke all the stones at once. The entire room was filled with gold dust and a mystical figure floated around. Matteo didn’t faint and looked at the voice he had been listening to for several years.

*

Shall I take you to a venture, my son?

Yes.

*

The gold dust figure made its way to Matteo’s lungs and spread all over his veins. His body floated in the air and he appeared to like a golden flame. The light glowed the entire room, and then he fell on the floor and the light vanished.

*

It brought him back to the time when he was in his teenage, most of his friends had turned into junkies, and he was one of the few who could not dare. Yet it was all a matter of time, some peer pressure and mocking his curiosity, and he was in.

It was how it started, and then he got lost with his junkie friends. Unlike them, he was not from a place where he could afford to be blissed every day, yet he had developed a taste for it.

Causing a small theft in his own house didn’t bother him much, but things went out of his hand when he sold all Aria’s sketches and paintings to strangers. He disregarded the worth of those creations in his sister’s life, and the value it had in her life. Seeing her losing her mind and seeking professional help scared him, and he lied. Yet he got caught in an evening when they discovered one of the sketches hanging outside a small art store, upon inquiring Matteo’s lie unmasked.

Aria grieved even more after finding out the truth, which she could never forget or let go.

Matteo begged for her forgiveness and she agreed.

Amongst all of it, there was one, closest to my heart. It was the only creation which has inspired me in many ways. Bring it back to me, and till then you will not hear a word from me.

So many years went by, so many losses they have shared, yet not a single word. If it was not for their dying father’s wish, Aria would have a mind to cut her out of Matteo’s life.

Since, then Matteo’s never-ending search for the masterpiece began, his quest for the masterpiece showed him the world beyond anyone’s imagination, he witnessed the work of the dark sorcerers and sought any help that he could use to restore his relationship with his sister. There were twelve pieces of them, and he didn’t know which one was the masterpiece, he had no other option than bringing them all back, so far, he had found eleven pieces, but there was not a trail that he could follow to find the last one.

Then, he found the illuminating stones which caused a mine to shut down. He had heard tales about them and how it opens a portal to take a glance at the past as if it is present. He pulled all the strings that he could and paid high prices to possess them. Not many knew about the power of the stones. Most of its collectors were fond of its beauty, but Matteo’s intentions varied from them. After every sundown, he throws himself into the past in the hope that he can find the man he sold the last piece of Aria’s painting.

Many had gone to waste, yet each one gave him a glimpse of the past that he regretted. It broke his heart after Aria stopped cherishing the gift she was born with and blamed himself for it all.

Living without her dream was a life all living around her. She found a man who loved her and left nothing behind except for their son, Kye. Matteo offered her a place to live and a life that Kye deserved, but she refused. With the small savings she had on her, she made peace with her life and led it by herself.

The voice guided Matteo to a shop where he found the man. He sat in the distance and imprinted his face into his memories.

When he woke up, he called a sketch artist and prepared a sketch of the man. After it was done, he circulated it on every street of the city and put a reward for the one who’d get him.

Days turned into a week, and weeks into months, yet Matteo got nothing on the man. He ran out of the stones as well.

One evening, he was sitting in despair, with no hope he received a call from a woman.

*

What does this man mean to you? Why are you looking for him?

He has something that I sold. I want it back, and I am willing to pay any price for it.

What is it?

A painting.

Oh, the curse. I don’t care about the money. Come and get it. It cost me my husband.

Send me the address.

*

He wasted no time and left his place. When he met the old woman, she had the painting wrapped in black sheets.

*

He got obsessed with it. Hours he spent alone with this painting to understand what it depicted. His children hated him for not being there, but he didn’t care. Many times I tried to ruin it but every time I did, it didn’t feel right. Why do you care about it?

Well, this painting cost me my sister.

*

Matteo didn’t say much, wrote a cheque for her, took the painting and left.

*

Another month had gone by and the day came when Aria and Matteo saw each other. She found it strange that there was no restaurant but the coordinates in the note for Matteo. She assumed it was one or another trick to make her speak to him, but she was being herself. She put the coordinates on the map and it took her to an abandoned building.

Many cars were parked outside. She entered the building, and it seemed like an exhibition which fumed her, and again she took it in and wandered around.

A glow sparkled in her eyes when she recognised the one put on display. She felt a swift warmth in her veins, and her breath got heavy. One by one she looked at all of it, yet there were only eleven, and each had a sign, “NOT FOR SALE”. Her eyes searched for Matteo and he was there on the balcony looking at her. He sent a man to escort her to him.

*

This way ma’am.

*

Her eyes filled with tears, yet her gut in fire. When she saw Matteo there was one covered in a black sheet. She couldn’t hold herself and unrevealed it. The moment she laid her eyes on it, she broke down and fell to her knees, and burst out in tears. Matteo never felt more helpless than ever and looked away.

*

I am sorry; I failed. Matteo whispered.

You didn’t fail. Aria spoke.

*

He turned and looked at her.

*

You didn’t fail. I failed, and I am so glad that I did. I was wrong about you that you did not care. This is you when you were lost.

*

And they both turned and looked at the painting.

*

Would you like to come for dinner at my house? I know it is not going to be fancy like you make it all the time.

I’d love to.

*

After having dinner with her sister, Matteo claimed his right to love and take for her sister and nephew, and she gladly accepted.