The plan was simple:
Wake up late.
Eat something sweet.
Avoid mysterious plot developments.
So naturally, the universe said, "That's adorable," and did the exact opposite.
---
Morning at the Café
Atheria's café was calm today.
No talking muffins. No protesting teacups.
Just the hum of the magical stove and a gentle cinnamon-sugar breeze.
Naomi and I were lounging on the porch, sipping cocoa and watching a broom lazily sweep the cobblestones all by itself.
"Let's not move until noon," Naomi said, stretching like a cat.
"Agreed," I replied, sipping from my 'Definitely Not a Chosen One' mug.
Then, as if summoned by our peace, the mailbox spat something onto the café doorstep.
Not gently delivered. Spat.
It bounced once, sparkled faintly, and unfolded mid-air.
Naomi caught it mid-flop and held it up.
"Clue #2 – The Crumbs of Destiny"
When the sundial's shadow meets the singing stone, seek the giggle beneath the bench that faces East.
Inside, a box awaits.
Only the hungry shall find it.
—Your Future Self, Probably
I groaned. "No. Absolutely not. We are not spending another day chasing snack clues."
Naomi was already tying her shoelaces.
The Clue Hunt Begins
We started at the town's old sundial, which also doubled as a weather-guessing instrument and occasional bird bath.
The "singing stone" turned out to be the rock near the bakery that randomly meows at noon. I don't question it anymore.
We watched.
Waited.
The sundial's shadow crept… then touched the base of the stone.
"Alright," I muttered. "What does it mean by 'giggle beneath the bench'?"
Naomi pointed at the park. "East-facing benches. Let's test them all."
There were seven east-facing benches.
Each time we sat down, Naomi told a joke. Bad ones.
"What do you call a floating biscuit?"
"Don't."
"A levain cookie!"
"That doesn't even—"
And then the fourth bench giggled.
I blinked. "Did it just laugh at your pun?"
"YES! I have bench-approved comedy!" Naomi cheered.
Underneath the seat, tucked between two planks, was a small enchanted box with the café's emblem on the lid.
The Treasure
We opened it together.
Inside: two folded papers and one cookie wrapped in star-patterned wax.
Naomi unfolded hers.
"50% Off Any Flavored Milk at MooBerry's Magical Dairy Stand"
(Valid until next full moon)
Mine read:
"Buy One, Get One Free Glazed Sky Donuts – Any Size"
(Excludes days ending in 'z')
Also inside the box? A single note.
"Sometimes the real treasure is delayed gratification.
Other times, it's exactly what you think it is: snacks."
—You
Naomi squealed. "YESSSS. Snack treasure confirmed!"
"I hate that this is becoming a thing."
"You love it," she grinned.
I sighed. "Yeah. I kind of do."
---
Evening Reflections
Back at the café, we cashed in our coupons. MooBerry's strawberry star milk glowed slightly, and the Sky Donuts sparkled faintly with what I'm pretty sure was edible meteor dust.
We sat on the balcony, legs dangling, munching quietly as the stars blinked awake overhead.
Naomi leaned back. "What do you think's really going on with these clues?"
I shrugged. "I thought they were just future-me being weird. But now…"
Now, there was a pattern.
A sense of timing.
And that name from earlier still echoed in my mind: "the twin who walks backward."
"Whatever it is," I said slowly, "it's leading us somewhere. But at least we're being fed along the way."
Naomi held up her milk. "To snack-based destiny!"
I clinked my donut against her bottle.
Because hey, if I was being pulled into a cosmic breadcrumb trail, at least I had a best friend beside me and coupons to spare.