I looked at the third lock. The inscription was rotated and mirrored:

Ԁ ɑ ʇ I ǝ u ɔ ǝ

It took me a few minutes to decipher the word: Patience

Before embarking on my final quest, I examined my newly acquired key. It was beautiful, its top shaped like a heart. I whispered a thank you to the girl in the mirror and inserted the key into the lock. A pink smoke burst out, and I immediately heard him sniff. The little elf was perched on my shoulders.

Who are you? I asked him.

Hello there, my name is Jiga.

How long have I been piggybacking you?

It’s been a while. Fifteen, twenty years, maybe?

Wow! How come I didn’t notice you before?

People don’t really want to acknowledge us jigas.

You are quite heavy, can you come down?

I eat urgency, anxiety, and stress, and you’ve been feeding me quite well. Unfortunately, I can only leave when you stop needing me.

Ok, little man, here’s the thing. I’m in a rush, and I can’t run as fast as I wish if I keep carrying you.

Didn’t you just read what the lock says? Patience. Anyway, why are you in such a hurry?

I then told him about Rainbowland, where everything felt possible, and how urgent it was to find my way back as I was already lagging behind my dreams and the timeline I’d built for myself.

He listened attentively and then said, have you tried easing your timeline?

Oh no, I want to be aligned with everyone else. I know it sounds silly, but I only have one lifetime, and I don’t want to waste time.

You know time doesn’t really exist; it’s an illusion. You can collapse it whenever you want. Anyway, a true marathoner knows the prize isn’t the race itself, it’s the training.

Jiga didn’t leave that day, or the next, or the one after that. He stayed with me. We talked and debated often, he usually winning. Carrying him was exhausting, yet I grew fond of him.

He was very protective, always ready to take blows for me. We became friends, even when my shoulders kept resenting him.

He was wrong about one thing, though: time didn’t collapse. Weeks passed, then months, and then years. I kept looking for the key but couldn’t find it. I was weary.

You know what? I said one afternoon. I surrender.

Are you giving up?

Not exactly. I need a break. Earth isn’t Rainbowland, but it has so much to offer. And while I’d been obsessed with the key, I’d been missing out on everything I already had.

With confidence and self‑love, this world didn’t seem as dull as before. I was very fortunate, and I didn’t really need anything. I wanted things, but I no longer needed them. My desire to return to Rainbowland had become painful.

It’s time to let go, Jiga.

About time, he said, slipping off my back. I immediately felt weightless. Goodbye, my friend, he added.

Why are you leaving?

Jiga means 自我, the “ego”. Now that you’ve surrendered, there’s no reason for me to stay. You see, I’m patience-intolerant. And patience… patience is folding time, choosing presence over urgency. I’ll still visit, hopefully not too often.

This is for you, he said, handing me a beautiful red tulip before leaving with a spring of little hops.

I took the flower and went back home. I was so light, I was almost floating.

A few days later, the tulip blossomed, and at its center, a tiny key awaited me.