Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
SANORA
I spent the entire afternoon buried in my notes and glued to my computer, documenting every detail I could remember from my stay near The Crater.
I wrote like a woman possessed—everything including the cryptid-looking man who’d stared at me like I was a walking mistake.
I described how the cold was so intense it felt like my brain had frozen solid and rebooted halfway through a thought.
Even hours later, I still wasn’t fully back to myself.
My body trembled occasionally, and every time I blinked, I felt like I was remembering how to be human all over again.
At some point, I attempted to make pancakes but only realised halfway through that I’d been whisking the batter directly inside the pan I planned to fry it in.
Earlier, I’d opened the fridge four separate times without taking anything out.
During the early evening, I wrapped myself in another oversized sweaters and stepped out again. The articles I’d found online were either watered down or altered by someone who clearly never stood near the damn thing.
I needed to know if the temperature could actually kill someone. If The Crater was unreachable because the surrounding cold made it impossible for any living creature to get close. Because I wasn’t even anywhere close to it, and it still felt like I’d died and come back to life.
The bookstore in Nimorran was my best shot. If anyone had documented the real effects of approaching The Crater, it would be there.
When I stepped inside, the bell above the door gave a jingle. Weeny Man glanced up from the book he was hunched over and smiled like he’d been expecting me.
I returned the smile, giving him a small nod. “I’m not done with the books,” I said quickly. “I’ll return them as soon as—”
He waved it off. “Take your time reading them.”
Then, stepping out from behind the counter, he tilted his head and gave me a look that was part curiosity, part mischief. “So, what brings you in? Looking for something specific? Or are you just here to grace an old man with your company?”
I shook my head, steeling myself for what I really wanted to say. Instead of diving straight into it—because I knew the word “Crater” would set him off like a triggered trap—I walked over to the chair by the window and sat, rubbing my palms together.
“Why are you here?” I asked finally. “Out of all places in the world, why Nimorran?”
His smile faded. He came to sit across from me, and his eyes dropped slightly before he answered. “I’m from Nimorran.”
My brows shot up. “What? You—you were born here?”
He nodded, exhaling through his nose. “My predecessors grew up and died here. All of us rooted in the same soil.”
“That’s…” I blinked, the gears in my head shifting. “That’s actually amazing. That means you know things, real things, about this town. You probably know the kind of history people don’t even write down—”
“I’m not answering questions about that thing,” he cut in flatly, already knowing where I was going. “Just letting you know.”
I groaned, actually groaned. “Weeny Man!”
He scratched at his greying beard, unmoved.
“If you won’t tell me, then fine. I’ll die finding the answers myself.”
“Sanora.” His voice wrapped around my name with a quiet warning.
“All you ever say is that The Crater’s dangerous, but you never say why. Do you really think that’s going to stop me?” I threw my arms up. “If anything, the word dangerous just makes me want to get even closer and see exactly how bad it is.”
“Sanora.” He sighed it this time, tired.
I stood up, heat rising in my chest. “Never mind. I’ll go again and figure things out on my own.”
That caught him. He jerked forward, his entire posture changing. “Go again?” His voice darkened, eyes narrowing. “You went near The Crater?”
I stared him down, jaw clenched, like I was daring him to reprimand me.
“What made you turn back?” he asked.
I crossed my arms. “I think you already know.”
He ran a hand through his grey hair, looking around the shop like the walls had ears. When he finally spoke, his voice had dipped an octave lower. “Humans can’t near that Crater.”
My chest tightened. I kind of figured that out myself earlier.
“You’ve never read about anyone reaching it because no one ever does.
The ones who tried never came back. They froze to death long before they could get close.
Birds can’t fly over it—whatever energy it emits kills them mid-flight.
No animals, no humans. You’re lucky you turned back when you did, Sanora”
I would’ve died.
The hope drained from me like someone had kicked it out of my ribs. I’d spent years imagining the day I’d finally see The Crater up close, imagining how massive and otherworldly it must look in person. I wanted to stand at the edge of something legendary and...ancient.
I didn’t know for what reason aside from my weird interest, but the need to get close to it haunted my sleep sometimes.
“The Crater is an epicentre of tragedy,” Weeny Man continued. “It is the scar of the moon and most believed to be the resting place of the Moon Queen’s final child. I wouldn’t go near it if I were you. People don’t go there anymore.”
I looked at him carefully, letting the next words slip out. “People still do. I saw someone there yesterday.”
His expression changed instantly, his shoulders pulling back. “Who?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. A strange man.”
He stood suddenly, the air around us shifting. I instinctively stepped back, thrown by the urgency in his movements.
“What man?” he demanded. “Tell me everything about him.”
“Uh…tall. He—he didn’t look like a local. He was in black from head to toe. He was dressed for the cold weather, but he didn’t look quite cold.” I frowned. “Why?”
Weeny Man’s jaw tensed. He turned his back to me, running both hands over his head, fingers dragging through grey strands like he was trying to wring out a nightmare. When he turned again, his face was pale beneath the warm flush of age. “Did he touch you?”
“No.” The answer came quickly. I didn’t even have to think. “No, he didn’t come close. He stood very far and said weird things. Called me stupid for attempting to go near The Crater.”
“Do you still have the medallion I gave you? The one from when you were ten?”
I nodded, blinking at the question. “Yeah. For protection, right?”
“Has it ever burned?”
My eyes widened. “How did you know?”
He moved past me, muttering under his breath, steps uneven like his thoughts were tumbling faster than his body could keep up. At the counter, he rummaged through a drawer with trembling hands. “Sanora, when? How many times?”
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice rising.
“Always keep it on you. No matter what.”
“It nearly scorched my hand the other night.”
“It’s doing what it’s meant to do—keeping bad things away.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Maybe that’s because your mother is always right,” he snapped, yanking open a drawer.
He pulled out pouches of dried herbs, grains, little black stones, and a thick bottle of cloudy liquid.
“In the evening,” he said, voice low and fast, “put these outside every door, every window, your bed, the threshold of the house. Every corner. Don’t skip anything.”
I reached for it. “Weeny Man, what the hell is—”
“Don’t ask questions, Sanora,” he said firmly. “Just do it.”
Then he turned and opened another drawer, pulling out a small ring of keys. “I’ve got a car out back. I don’t drive anymore. You can use it while you’re here.”
He pulled one key loose and pressed it into my palm, pocketing the rest.
Before I could say a word, he walked around me, crossed to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside, leaving me standing in the bookshop, confused out of my mind.