The Key

William had been in this situation before, though it still hurt to see such a beautiful home torn down, for no purpose other than the expansion of the city.

The house was among the oldest in the city, built when the streets were little more than dirt and the hopes of a bright future remained in everyone’s minds. It was grand, large enough to house a family of ten with room to spare and surrounded by high brick walls.

As William set foot beyond the walls, he was greeted by the sight of a forgotten garden. Perhaps at one point it had held a veritable rainbow of flowers, with cobblestone paths to ferry all who wished to linger outside. Now, however, it was overgrown, not a single vestige of its beauty remaining.

His heart ached at the sight of such decay, but there was nothing which could be done. No one from the owner’s extended family had stepped forth upon his passing, and no one dared to purchase it, daunted by the fearsome task of restoring such an antique.

The interior wasn’t much better, coated in a layer of dust and cobwebs everywhere he looked. Abandoned furniture lay strewn about, some tossed aside as if in a panic.

Of it all, however, William found himself stopping beside a toppled grandfather clock, curious gaze watching as the worn mechanism continued ticking away, pendulum fighting against the pull of gravity to swing.

He observed its peculiar nature for only a moment more before continuing his survey. Whatever could be recovered would have an attempt made, but for the most part, he was there to determine optimal locations from which the demolition could begin.

As he wandered the halls, peeking into rooms, he couldn’t help but wonder what the house had looked like in its prime, when human life still graced it and the sounds of children playing echoed off its walls.

It was at the end of one such hall, though, where William found a locked door, and a far more frightful sight. Sitting at the base of the door, clutching an old brass key in its hands as if the final guardian to a secret, was a lone skeleton.

William hurried to call the cops and alert them of the situation, but as he waited for them to arrive, his curiosity got the better of him. Although he knew trouble would no doubt arise from his actions, he plucked the key away with a gentle hand.

There was nothing special about it, no reason he could find for why someone would guard it with their life. The only clue he had was its proximity to the door.

William glanced around, ensuring the officers had yet to arrive, then inserted the key into the door. At first, it refused to budge, the lock stubborn after what had to have been decades of disuse, but with the subdued scraping of rust, it gave.

The door eased inward, hinge complaining as it was made to work again after such a long rest, but the room beyond was no room. There were no walls beyond the door, no floorboards, not even a lamp. What there was, however, despite the sun shining outside, was a moonlit valley with a single glistening river carving a wide swathe through the land.

William could do little more than stare in awe as he ventured onward, taking in the majesty of the scenery before him. The moment he crossed the threshold of the door, the chill of the night set in. But it wasn’t a bone-rattling chill, rather closer to the soothing kiss one could expect after working through a hot summer day. Birds called to one another as they settled into their resting places for the night, signals for both young and mates to return home.

William neared the edge of the cliff before him, wary not to step too far, lest he go over. As he stared down upon the valley, he laid eyes on a quaint village nestled at the base of a waterfall. There were people, and though it was quite a distance down, he could make out that they were indeed human.

“Hello there.”

William spun toward the voice, finding a young woman no older than him standing beside the doorway. She wore simple clothing and a shawl, and carried a basket full of berries and fruit, with a smile that lit up the night more than the moon itself. Her hair seemed to match the ground underfoot, the patches of ivy interwoven within braids giving her the semblance of a field regrowing after a drought, or perhaps of staring up at the canopy of trees and spying that unique mingling of browns and greens.

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a visitor before.”

“I-I just— I didn’t mean to—” William hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry. I found the key and …”

The woman chuckled and offered an apple. “It’s quite all right. My name is Julietta.”

William accepted the apple, receiving a pleasant surprise as it tasted far better than any he’d ever experienced before. It was almost impossible to describe, as if it were untainted by that which marred his world. Whatever the reason, he scarfed it down far quicker than he intended to.

“What is this place?” he asked once the last bite had been swallowed.

“None of us know. My great-grandfather found it decades ago, and he moved every part of his family into this world.”

Together, they sat upon the cliff, legs hanging over the edge. Above them, the stars shimmered while the moon coated the world in its ivory glow. It was a serene realm he’d found himself in, one which he desired never to leave.

“Is it just your family down there?”

“We get visitors from other realms once a month,” Julietta answered. “They always arrive with the new moon. My great-grandfather said not to trust them, but they all seem nice enough.”

William turned his attention to Julietta, finding a subtle glimmer had appeared on her skin, as if some magic within her body had decided to show itself. He stared wide-eyed as her gaze met his, her hazel eyes entrancing him in a way he’d never before felt.

“I mean, they must be nice if one of them became my mother.”

“Your mom?”

Julietta giggled and slipped the shawl off her shoulders. At first, nothing happened, but as the seconds passed, a set of shimmering wings unfolded themselves from flat against her back. Their iridescent shape resolved into those akin to what butterflies possessed, albeit with trailing tails that lent a certain elegance to their silhouette.

As she stood, her wings caught the light of the moon, casting their beautiful glow across William. He couldn’t take her eyes off her, unable to believe the world he’d stumbled into.

“If you wish, you can stay here with us.”

Julietta offered her hand. William looked at it, uncertain if he should accept. He didn’t have much of a life back home, both parents having passed away in an unfortunate accident and extended family having no idea he existed. There were no friends to come looking for him, little more than coworkers who would sooner find a replacement than search for him.

The only thing which stopped him from saying yes in an instant was the schedule demolition. If the doorway was destroyed, there would be no guarantee he could ever return to his own world.

As much as he desired to spend the rest of his life within such a world, he knew he had to venture back through the doorway.

“I’m sorry.” He brushed aside Julietta’s hand and stood under his own power. “I can’t join you yet. But, if you give me a couple of months, I’m going to try and keep the doorway safe from the other side.”

Julietta took William’s hand in his. “Of course. I understand.”

The two walked hand in hand back toward the doorway, where they said their final farewells to one another. For a brief moment, as he went to close the door from the other side, he worried if he’d ever be able to open it again, or if the magic would cease to work upon the lock clicking.

Whether or not it did, however, he had only one goal left on his mind. It would wipe away whatever savings his parents had left him, but he had to purchase the house by any means necessary. Anything to ensure he could meet with Julietta once again.