Questions and Curiosity

The afternoon sun filtered through the treehouse windows as Felix climbed the wooden ladder, his backpack heavy with textbooks.

Maya was already there, cross-legged on the old rug with Sketch purring in her lap, surrounded by scattered papers and her ever-present sketchbook.

"Rough day?" Felix asked, dropping his bag with a thud.

Maya groaned, holding up a worksheet. "Social studies project. I have to write about different forms of government, but I keep getting stuck on democracy." She traced her finger along a line of text. "It says here that democracy started in ancient Athens, but I can't picture what it actually looked like. How did people really participate? What did it feel like?"

Felix's eyes lit up as he glanced toward the ornate wooden puzzle box sitting on their makeshift table. "You know," he said slowly, "we've learned more history by living it than we ever did from books."

Maya's brown eyes widened with the same thought. She set Sketch gently aside and reached for the box, its carved surface warm beneath her fingers.

"Do you think it could help with this too?"

As she opened the lid, the box began to shimmer, responding to their curiosity. Golden light swirled around them as the familiar sensation of time bending took hold, spinning them into the unknown.