I Woke Up To Find Myself In A New World

Midway along the journey of our life

I woke to find myself in a dark wood

for I had wandered off from the straight path

The Divine Comedy: Inferno

Dante Alighieri

Mia didn’t wake up on the wolf’s back. Instead, she felt as though she were suddenly ten years younger on a rare summer day, her head resting against her father’s shoulder in a meadow full of flowers near their home.

Wait… What?

Before she could make sense of it, her gaze drifted upward and froze. There was no sky above her. No clouds, no sun. Just a massive, glowing light, floating silently like some kind of oversized firefly. It shimmered gently, but the sight was so surreal it sent a jolt of fear through her.

“Wha—!”

She jumped up with a start, only to trip over her own feet and fall face-first to the ground.

“My! Please be careful with your body!"

“Who... who spoke?” Mia asked, eyes wide.

A huge red creature was sitting calmly on the floor beside the bed. Its fur was as fluffy and dense as a mountain dog, but it definitely weighed, at least, three times her size. Whatever that was, it looked entirely too at ease for something that big and that beastly.

“Mia!”

She yelped, scrambled back, and dove behind the nearest chair, gripping it like a shield. If the thing moved even a step closer, she was prepared to throw it.

“Did… did you just talk?” she stammered, her voice high and breath shallow.

“That’s correct,” the beast replied in the gentlest tone, almost as if it were a mother soothing a frightened child. “But please, don’t panic. I’m not here to hurt you. You’re perfectly safe.”

“Who… who are you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She took a cautious moment to scan her surroundings, her eyes darting from corner to corner, half-expecting something to jump out at her. The room was enormous, easily the size of her entire house. The bed she had fallen from was massive, carved from dark rosewood, big enough to fit a family of four. Across the room stood another bed, identical in design, but no one was lying on it. To her left was a tall window, shut tight. To her right, a door, also closed. No sounds. No movement.

“Where the devil am I…?” She sounded miserable, like a mouse caught in a trap.

“Mia, don’t you remember me?” the red thing questioned softly.

Her eyes slowly turned toward the voice, half curious, half afraid. Then, like a key clicking into a locket, the memory returned.

The red wolf! The one she had met in the village!

“It’s… It was you. You saved me last night!”

“Not last night. You've been asleep for four days. Your body was completely exhausted. But yes, that was me. My name is Gaia.”

“I don’t understand… Why am I here? Where is here? And how are you even talking?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. You're overwhelmed, and that's okay. But I promise, you're safe. Nothing will harm you here,” Gaia reassured gently. “Would you please sit down?”

“I’m great,” Mia replied, though her voice wavered.

“Please. I insist. This will take a little time to explain.”

After a short pause, Mia gave in and sank into the chair she'd been hiding behind. Only then did she notice she wasn’t wearing the same dress from home.

Instead, she wore a long, white gown. It was soft and light, perfect for the cozy warmth of the room. But if she’d worn something like this in her sleep back in the village during the chilly night, she wouldn’t have woken up the next morning.

Gaia took three careful steps forward, enough to ease the distance between them, but not enough to chase Mia’s trust away.

“I am no ordinary wolf. As you can see, I have a name. I can speak with you; and I am not ruled by the primal savage instincts of the wolves you know from your world. I know it must seem strange… but I’m not alone. There are many like me here.”

The great wolf tilted her head slightly, noticing Mia's eyes flicking upward.

“The light floating above?” she continued. “We use those instead of fire. They’re a protective alternative, so there are no flames to spread and no smoke to suffocate. Our archives and libraries hold knowledge too valuable to risk. Even for cooking or bathing, we rely on them. Don’t worry, they won’t hurt you.”

Mia blinked slowly. “I’ve never seen anything like this…”

“I know,” Gaia replied gently. “Because magic doesn’t exist in your world. But this… this is Genesis. You're here because I brought you.”

Panic flickered across Mia’s face. Before she could speak, Gaia lowered her voice, as if speaking to a frightened child.

“I’m your guide, and under my care now. No harm will come to you, I swear.”

Mia’s voice faulted. Like a homesick child, tears began to well in the corners of her green eyes, but she held them in “Am I… very far from home?”

Gaia’s eyes softened. “You don’t understand, my child. Your home… it no longer exists. You’re in another world,”

Mia bolted upright, heart pounding, and rushed for the door. But Gaia moved faster, stepping in front of her just before her hand could turn the knob.

“Please,” she pleaded, “trust me. Just like you did that night.”

Mia’s hands shook. Then her whole body. Her knees couldn't carry her own height, so she collapsed to the floor.“I... I think I’ve gone mad…”

“You haven’t. You humans weren’t created to use the full extent of your minds. But while you slept, your body adapted to the new environment just as I predicted. I knew you would survive. That’s why I chose you. You’re special.”

She stepped closer, lowering her big head to meet her eyes.

“Your mind is one of the few that has successfully transcended its limits. That’s why we can speak now. Please, Mia… there’s still so much I need to explain.”

Mia gave the massive, talking wolf a long look, whose eyes were both sorrowful and strangely gentle. After a brief hesitation, she stepped away from the door and returned to the chair. After all, that was the most rational action to take; because she didn’t know what dangers might be lurking on the other side; besides, the wolf had already saved her life once. Whether she liked it or not, the reason she was still alive... was because of this creature.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed something strange happening in your village lately, haven’t you?” the wolf asked.

“Yes. Everyone kept saying it was my fault. I swear I’m innocent. I have no idea what—”

“I know,” Gaia interrupted gently. Then she padded over to the bookshelf, gripped a thick, leather-bound book in her jaws, and placed it on Mia’s lap with surprising delicacy.

“Tell me, have you heard of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse?”

“Of course,” Mia nodded. “Conquest, War, Famine, and Death. Every child knows about them. My father used to tell me bedtime stories — how if I didn’t go to sleep, they’d come in their high horses and take me forever with them. But I don’t really know anything beyond that.”

“They’re not just stories,” Gaia said grimly, nudging the book open to a marked page. There was no text, only a large, haunting illustration of four cloaked figures on towering horses.

“They’re real, and they’re the villains to blame. Turn to the next page.”

Mia did as she was told, and the wolf began to read aloud.

"When your world was woven into being, it was bound by a sacred law: For without evil to cast its shadow, the light of good cannot be appreciated; and without the light of good, evil cannot be condemned, becoming all the world has ever known.

This balance is the heartbeat of progress. It is a cycle as old as time itself:

Hard times forge strong souls.

Strong souls bring forth golden ages.

Golden ages breed comfort.

And comfort births frailty.

Thus, the wheel turns.”

The wolf lifted his large head, “Do you understand this, Mia?”

Mia stayed silent. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came.

“For instance: for a long time,you took food for granted. It was always there, so you never stopped to appreciate it. Only when the foxes began to hunt your stores did you become aware; only then did you start to pray, to be thankful for what you had left to eat.”

Mia blinked. The wolf’s wise words struck a strange chord in her heart.

“Yes,” Mia said softly. “That’s true.”

“But then, your people adapted. You began working in teams. You invented weapons. And so, the attacks ceased. Food became plentiful again. But now, you ate with gratitude and relief because the hardship had been overcome.

“However” Gaia’s voice lowered, “the wolves came. And you know the rest of the story. In short, this balance of good and evil is what drives progress in your world.”

Mia glanced down at the open book again. The illustration of the cloaked riders stared back at her.

“But how does this relate to the Four Horsemen?”

Gaia's eyes turned back to the page as well.

“From the beginning,” she said, “the Horsemen were entrusted with immense responsibility. They were not meant to destroy blindly. They were chosen to guide fate, in other words, to determine when evil must be allowed to touch Humanity. Their power had to be used carefully; not too much, not too little. "

Gaia tapped the edge of the page with her paw.

“The name of the first Horseman… is Conquest. He brings betrayal and treachery.”

Mia’s eyes drifted to the illustration of the figure riding a white horse. His cloak matched the mount — white, but not pure. A sickly, tainted white. In one hand, he held an arrow; in the other, a bow.

“The second is War,” Gaia continued. “He brings violence and chaos. Both his cloak and his horse are red, symbolizing the blood spilled with the swing of his longsword.

“The third is Famine. Look closely at the scales he carries. They represent more than hunger. He is the bringer of scarcity of all the essentials humans rely on to survive, like water and medicine.

Gaia paused briefly, exhaling deeply before her voice lowered.

“And lastly…” she said, “the final Horseman is Death. He brings plague and disease that spreads like ivy, killing many at once.”

They were all terrifying in their own right, but to Mia, Death was the most frightening of them all. That veiny hand gripping the scythe… it was just as pale as the tattered cloak fluttering around it, and as ghostly as the horse it rode. The sight pulled at a memory she had buried deep: of the day she found her mother’s lifeless body lying on the straw mattress. For a moment, Mia couldn’t look away from the figure. The image of the Last Horseman had her in a trance.

But then came Gaia’s voice, soft and warm, like a breeze through tall grass.

“I know none of the villagers have ever made it beyond the woodlands,” she said gently. “But outside your borders, there are thousands of civilizations just like yours. The deaths happening now... they’re not a curse or punishment. It’s a disease that’s already spread far and wide.”

Gaia paused, her expression turning grim.

“It only reached your village later because it was carried by wolves, or other animals that may have come into contact with your cattle. From there, the cattle spread it to the people.”

“So… it wasn’t witchcraft that caused the deaths. It was the Last Horseman.”

Mia stood frozen, completely stunned. Gaia took her silence as permission to continue.

“Correct. But the real problem is that his actions have become... excessive. The plague has already claimed so many lives that, at this rate… there won’t be a single human left.”

And with those words, Mia collapsed to the floor.