The morning sun broke through the clouds as the three travelers — Samreth, Sophea, and Athisa — began their long journey south. Koma trotted ahead, tail wagging, guiding them along narrow paths that wound through fields and sleepy villages.
The road from Kompong Thom to Phnom Penh was long and dusty. It took them nearly two days on foot and cart rides from friendly farmers who pitied their weary faces. The nights were spent beneath starlit skies, by small fires that crackled softly as Koma curled beside them.
When they finally reached Phnom Penh, the city felt both strange and familiar. It was quieter than Samreth remembered from his own time — old colonial buildings half-broken, the streets lined with people trading salt, rice, and hope. The air carried the scent of the river — the same Tonle Sap that once glittered before his house in 2025.
They rested there for a night near the old pagoda by the river. Samreth shared his "modern food" — instant noodles, canned fish, and snacks — to the wonder of the villagers. Sophea stared in amazement when she saw water boil into a pot so quickly from his tiny gas burner.
"What kind of magic is this?" she asked, smiling as steam rose into the cool night.
"It's not magic," Samreth replied softly, stirring the noodles. "It's just… the world I came from."
Sophea leaned closer, the firelight dancing in her eyes. "Then maybe your world isn't so bad, after all."
Athisa laughed gently as Koma sniffed the pot, wagging his tail. "He says it smells like heaven."
They ate together under the faint hum of the night. The sound of the river flowed like music, and for a moment, all the pain of the past seemed to fade.Journey to Kampot
By dawn, they left the city behind, walking south along the National Road 3 — though in that era, it was little more than a rough, dusty path winding between green hills. The journey took five days, crossing small villages and sugar palm fields.
Koma often ran ahead, barking at the sight of monkeys or wild birds. Athisa would whisper to the animals they met — sometimes a cow would let them rest under its tree, or a farmer's dog would share food with Koma.
When they finally reached Kampot, the scent of salt filled the air. The sea stretched endlessly before them — waves crashing softly under a pink sky. Sophea stood in awe, tears welling up.
"I've never seen the ocean before," she whispered.
Samreth smiled. "It's like time — endless, untamed, and sometimes cruel."
They decided to stay near the coast, building a small hut from bamboo and palm leaves by a quiet lagoon. Samreth, now stronger, used his tools and leftover supplies to make it sturdy. Sophea gathered flowers to decorate it, while Athisa built a small garden near the back.
That night, Samreth cooked again — this time a mix of his instant food and what they found by the sea. He grilled small fish wrapped in banana leaves and served it with instant rice from his stash. Sophea laughed as she tasted it.
"It's like two worlds mixed into one," she said.
"Maybe that's what we are," Samreth replied, gazing into the fire. "Two worlds — trying to live the same dream."
The Rabbit island
After a few days, they heard from a fisherman about a small island nearby — Rabbit Island, off the coast of Kep, reachable by boat.
"It's quiet there," the fisherman said. "No soldiers. Just peace and sea breeze."
They traded some supplies and joined his small wooden boat. The sea was calm that morning — sunlight glimmered across the waves like shards of glass. Sophea sat beside Samreth, her hand brushing his.
"Do you think we'll be safe there?" she asked softly.
Samreth looked toward the horizon, the wind lifting his hair. "If we're together, then yes."
As the island came into view, a green paradise surrounded by turquoise water, Koma barked excitedly, his paws on the boat's edge. The moment they stepped on shore, the soft white sand welcomed them.
They built another small hut near the treeline, close enough to hear the waves. The days were calm — fishing, collecting coconuts, and cooking together. At night, they would sit by the fire, sharing stories and dreams.
Sometimes, Samreth would look at the stars and whisper,"I wish time would stop here."
And Sophea, resting her head on his shoulder, would reply,"Maybe it already has."
✨ End of Chapter 19A moment of peace — before destiny begins to stir again.