A Strange Place

I am not always the adventurous kind of person, but somehow having a sight of the tunnel triggered something in me.

As if a hungry dog lured by the scent of food, I entered the tunnel hoping to come across something interesting in it.

No matter what it is, it did not matter.

The fog gets thicker and thicker as I walk towards the tunnel, and the back of my head is stormed by many questions, as if by instinct.

What if there is something in that tunnel I do not know of?

What if the tunnel suddenly caved in as I walked into it?

What if...

What if...

These are but just the few what-ifs I had in my mind, as I cannot help myself but be lured by its unidentified appeal.

Walking into what seems to be a long tunnel can feel like an eternity.

However, just like every extensive tunnel, there is always light at the end of it.

Like a light tower that sheds light in a sea of darkness, the end has become the focal point in the journey across the darkness, its relative brightness signaling what would be the end of a long, exasperating voyage.

#

Having stayed in the shade a little too long, my eyes became adjusted to the little illumination that I saw at the end of the tunnel, so that I felt blinded by the light as soon as I reached the exit.

“My vision...”

Fortunately, my inability to see had just been a temporary ordeal, as my eyes managed to adapt once more to accommodate a greater amount of brightness that they were used to.

Our eyes are simply amazing that way, though not without their setbacks.

As if the undertaking had not been mystifying enough, the other side of the tunnel did not fall short of surprising.

From the landscape to the vistas, much about this place is a far cry from what I am used to seeing—it is like being in another world altogether.

Now, this is not to say that I may not have seen a similar picture before—but from what I can tell, this must be a place not from the present.

How did I know, exactly?

Well, if you see the lack of modern buildings and towering structures anywhere, not to mention modern vessels that act as transport to people, then yeah, you know you are in a place that has a lot of improvements needing to be made over time.

Everything is eerily outdated... but quaint.

It actually is not so bad, especially if you have already grown tired of seeing the same things over and over again, day in and day out.

Now, that might sound quite like an exaggeration, but if you are a guy like me who barely moves places outside of important errands or work, then yeah, everything feels mundane—at times, boring.

I do not know about other people, but that did not seem quite abnormal to me—if anything, it is like living life, but in a calmer pace.

But the place I am in now—wow, this is different, it feels like I would be spending the rest of the year exploring it.

Not because I am already in the place, but because I can feel that there is something in it for me.

And venture it is, I did.

#

When you are in an unfamiliar territory, I assume that what most people do first is find the closest settlement.

By instinct, I know that is what I did.

As if by sheer longing, I looked for a place where people gather and live like a community of individuals.

Not only because it is a smart thing to do, but because it is instinctive.

I hate to admit it, but the social aspect in me can sometimes crave for meaningful connections, if not just a right exchange with others.

So, when this gut feeling kicked in, guess what place did I look for and find?

A small town of people, of course—

At least that is what I thought.

You see, when something is far, it often looks so small, you would not have the right gauge to tell what it actually is until you are very close to it.

As it turns out, the town I found did not fit the description of what tiny is—on the contrary, it is massive, at least by height.

And the closer I get to it, the greater the realization becomes.

From the outset, I saw what appears to be a tall gate surrounded by equally, if not more so, tall fences made out of sturdy but pointy wood.

I do not know much about wood in general, especially that used in building stuff.

But I can only guess how tough these wooden structures are, so as to be chosen as the material to shield the community from harm’s way.

You can surmise with certainty that this is a place for a community of people who understand the meaning of security and survival—perhaps, rightly so.

But, while yeah, those sharp edges are clearly meant for inflicting wounds to the right target, my size somewhat tells me that is not me.

If anything, I would be crushed by it, when aimed directly at me.

And as soon as I reached the gate, the ground suddenly shook.

As if the path is responding to the thousands of people or horses in march, you can feel the uneven vibration coming from the ground.

But no, this is no ordinary earthquake because if it is, everything else shakes, at least to a certain extent.

Yet, this is something else...

If anything, the ground is quite literally pulsating with every step; I could feel it.

Out of fear and confusion, I seek the nearest safe place, which happens to be just behind a large pile of ground on the side of the town.

And just like that, I became a witness to a sight I never thought I would have in my entire life—

#

They say that the world is inhabited by only some types of creatures—the insects, the animals, the plants, and us, humans.

This notion is not necessarily entirely wrong, at least not entirely—but that any belief otherwise could deem you delusional.

Some tried to defy that notion in vain in hopes of discovery, while some were led to believe in theories, folklore, and words of mouth.

Now, you would not be necessarily ridiculed for believing what others could not.

But you would not be accepted, either, for acting differently.

At least, that is what I could gather from doing just that.

You see, I have always believed in the supernatural, or at the very least, the strange.

This means that any belief around angels, demons, and aliens—or what have you—is but second nature to me.

What?

Did you truly believe that we are alone in this world, and that there are no forces—whether in alliances or conflict—that are unseen by the untrained eye?

I mean, yes, that might be the exact keywords to it—

“Untrained eye”.

Therefore, imagine my surprise when the very thing I believed in manifested in front of my very eyes.

I saw not just one, but two different creatures beyond my wildest dreams—

Centaurs and Giants.

If you do not know what Centaurs are, then the simplest way to describe them is that they are part human and part horse. 

Their upper portion is that of a human being, while their lower half is that of a stallion.

This means that while they have most of the capabilities that humans do with their arms, especially in combat, they also have the speed to outrun every human because of their four strong legs, clearly built for running.

Giants, meanwhile, are those large humanoid creatures that, despite their stature and unbelievable strength, may have relatively smaller brains, in general.

Why did I say that the Giants may have that disposition?

Well, if you have got a big body and can only mumble, grumble, and grunt as speech, then do you even have a mind capable of processing communication with that?

As surprising as it is, though, they can and do interact, it seems.

How exactly did I become a spectator to these two unique critters, in actual, is actually a story on its own.

But what I can say is this—they are not on good terms.

Now, I would not go into saying that the Giants’ unusual idiosyncrasies—at least, weird to my preference—are to blame.

But the half-horse people are clearly not too fond of them.

And that is putting it into a picture a little too lightly.

How can I tell, exactly?

Well, the Centaurs were the ones marching on the ground on their way to what seems to be the town of the Giants—and I was the unwitting guest in the thick of it.