Chapter 22 The Wishing Pool
Donovan took Shelby’s ashes to Mount Killburn, a place she had always longed to visit.
As he stepped out of the car, a sharp gust of wind greeted him, biting through his coat. He pulled another layer around himself. Not far from the parking lot, there was an inn.
There were vacant rooms available, and Donovan rented one.
The innkeeper, a young man with tanned skin and an easygoing demeanor, wore the traditional attire of the Zilrack Tribe. H wasn’t particularly tall, but his presence was welcoming
That evening, as the fire crackled in the hearth, the innkeeper entertained the guests with stories of the infamous Canyon f Death–also known as Narlington Canyon.
People called it the Gates of Hell.
However, Aryle Lodbridge, the innkeeper, warned them that the place was off–limits.
“Where are you from?” Aryle asked, eyeing Donovan curiously.
“Royphia,” Donovan replied.
“Did you come alone?”
Donovan shook his head. “With my wife.”
From the moment Donovan had stepped into the inn, Aryle had taken notice of him, for he was strikingly handsome, even more so than the lead actor of a popular television drama filmed at Mount Killburn years ago.
But something didn’t add up. He said he came with his wife, yet Aryle hadn’t seen him with a female companion.
Noticing Aryle’s confusion, Donovan pinched the small bottle hanging from his neck and said. “My wife has passed away
The jar was half–filled with ash. As realization dawned, Aryle’s expression softened with sympathy.
“She always wanted to come here,” Donovan murmured, his gaze dropping to the flickering flames as he prodded at the kindling. “But I never managed to bring her while she was alive.””
Aryle stood up and poured him a cup of coffee. “It’s not too late now?”
Donovan let out a quiet chuckle. He knew Aryle meant well, but words like that were only ever a comfort in theory.
Day and night, his longing for Shelby gnawed at him, growing so intense it threatened to drive him mad. He couldn’t stand being at home–the house was steeped in her presence. At first, it was a comfort, but the more he surrounded himself with traces of her, the deeper his yearning became. It became unbearable.
Bringing her to Mount Killburn had been a sudden decision, but now that he was here, he had no regrets
“Have you ever heard the story of reincarnation?” Aryle asked.
Donovan took a sip of his coffee and shook his head.
Aryle smiled. “There’s a place here called Westfarm Pool. They say if you can hold your breath underwater for two minutes and make a wish, it will be granted in your next life.”
Donovan chuckled, shaking his head. “You must be joking.”
Aryle raised his glass with a knowing smile. “Not necessarily. If someone truly had their wish granted in the next life, how would we ever know?”
Laughter rippled through the group gathered around the bonfire. No one took Aryle’s words seriously, treating them as
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nothing more than a fireside tale.
Just after five, Donovan set off from the inn, with Aryle as his guide. He usually didn’t take guests to Westfarm Pool, but for five thousand, he was willing to make an exception.
The journey was short–only about ten minutes from the inn. It would’ve been a waste not to seize the opportunity.
“The water’s warm, like a natural hot spring.” Aryle said, leading Donovan inside.
Late last night, around ten, Donovan sought out Aryle and told him he wanted to make a wish.
Aryle advised him to arrive early, as the pool attracted many wish–makers. Even before Donovan got there, five or six people had already gathered.
Westfarm Pool resembled a collection of natural ponds, varying in size and scattered across the landscape, each fed by underground springs. They weren’t interconnected.
As Aryle turned his head for.“?
a moment, Donovan had already removed his shirt, revealing his toned back. He then
noticed that everyone entering the water held a small black stone in their hand.
Donovan asked Aryle, “What is that?”
“A wishing stone,” Aryle replied, then leaned in and whispered, “But it’s just a scam-”
Before he could finish, he saw Donovan striding toward a small cabin on the side. It was a modest shop that exclusively sold these little black stones.
Without hesitation, Donovan pointed at one and asked, “How much?”
The s
shop owner held up three fingers. “Thirty thousand.”
Aryle, trailing behind, winced at the price. Thirty thousand–that was enough to cover his expenses for an entire year.
Donovan picked up a stone and stepped into the water. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let himself sink to the bottom of the spring.
Time stretched on, each second dragging into the next. The world above faded into silence.
If there’s another life, I want to meet Shelby again. But if I’m still destined to be a scoundrel, then I hope Shelby won’t fall for me. I want her to live a long, happy life, free of sorrow, with everything going her way.
Two minutes passed. Then three. Yet, Donovan did not resurface.
Aryle grew anxious as one by one, people surfaced, gasping for air and declaring their surrender.
None of them lasted long–the so–called wishing pool was nothing more than a cleverly crafted illusion.
“Mr. Mayer, time’s up,” Aryle called toward the water.
But Donovan remained submerged, showing no signs of surfacing.
Just as Aryle debated whether to dive in and pull him out, Donovan finally emerged. He wiped the water from his face, his expression unreadable, then opened his eyes.
Seven days later, he boarded his return flight
He had grown tanner and noticeably slimmer.
A year later, Mayer Group launched a new entertainment division.
Donovan had acquired the rights to five television dramas, with three already in production in the first half of the year. The company’s indoor variety show gained widespread acclaim, further solidifying its success.
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Donovan’s schedule was relentless–so much so that he often skipped meals. Concerned, Kathleen frequently visited his home to take care of him.
But her visits weren’t purely out of concern. She had another motive–her friend’s daughter, a charming young woman, had taken a liking to Donovan. Kathleen was determined to play matchmaker.
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