Ares

Darkness.
My first sensation was the rough ground beneath me, gritty and uneven against my back. No antiseptic
smell, no beeping monitors—just earthy dampness and a cool breeze that definitely wasn't a hospital's
air conditioning. The disconnect made my pulse quicken. Where was the emergency room? The
doctors who should have been treating my arrow wound?
I opened my eyes to a canopy of emerald leaves dancing against an impossibly blue sky. Not the
familiar gray-white of my bedroom ceiling, or the fluorescent lights of a hospital—just endless, alien
blue stretching between branches. My throat tightened as the wrongness of it all sank in.
The memory of the arrow hitting my chest flashed vivid and sharp. Mom's scream. Then nothing. Now...
this?
Am I dead? The thought sent a chill through me. I half-expected to see pearly gates or hear angelic
choirs. Instead, I got dirt under my fingernails and the musical trill of unfamiliar birds.
I pushed myself up slowly, brushing debris from my clothes—the same hoodie and shorts I'd worn to
the archery range, now smudged with forest grime. Everything ached like I'd been hit by a truck, but I
was breathing. Somehow.
A shadow passed overhead, drawing my gaze upward. My breath caught. That was no bird gliding
past—its wingspan stretched wider than a car, leathery wings stretched wide, claws gleaming in the
light. Scales shimmered down its long neck as it flew overhead, each movement powerful and
deliberate. The creature let out a cry that shattered the forest's peace—a sound that belonged in
documentaries about prehistoric beasts, not reality.
I scrambled backward until my shoulders hit rough bark, legs trembling too badly to stand. That thing
couldn't be real. Dragons weren't real. None of this was real. This had to be some kind of
trauma-induced hallucination. Any second now I'd wake up in a hospital bed with Mom holding my
hand...
But the bark digging into my back felt too solid, the earthy scents too vivid. Even my imagination
couldn't conjure details this sharp.
Focus, Aria. I forced myself to breathe slowly, fighting down the edge of panic. Back home, the scariest
thing in the woods was maybe a coyote. Here... I didn't even want to imagine what else might be lurking
between these alien trees.
I pushed myself to my feet, using the tree for support. My legs felt like jelly, but I couldn't stay here. I
had to find... something. Someone. Anything familiar.
The forest pressed in around me as I picked a direction at random and started walking. Every shadow
seemed to hide potential threats. Each unfamiliar bird call made me jump. Nothing looked like the neat,
well-maintained parks back home—this was wild in a way I'd only seen in nature documentaries.
A thorny vine snagged my arm as I pushed through dense undergrowth. I hissed at the sharp sting,
watching a thin line of blood well up. "Ow!" I muttered, more annoyed than hurt. Still, the small pain
grounded me. At least that felt normal.
Voices ahead made me freeze mid-step. I dropped into a crouch behind thick bushes, heart thundering
as I peered through the leaves.
A girl stood in a small clearing—but it was the creature beside her that made my breath catch. A wolf. A
massive wolf with blue flames flickering between its teeth.
I blinked hard, but the impossible sight remained. The flames cast an ethereal glow across its white fur,
like something out of a fantasy game. Run, my instincts screamed. But those piercing eyes had already
locked onto me, holding me in place like a rabbit in torchlight.
"You there, come out," the girl called, her voice steady and firm.
Right. Because a wolf breathing blue fire really makes me want to step into the open.
Still, those eyes left me no choice. I rose slowly, brushing leaves from my clothes as I emerged. Cold
sweat prickled my skin as I met the girl's gaze.
She looked young—maybe a few years older than me—but carried herself with the confidence of
someone much older. Dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, framing sharp features that held
both strength and kindness. A spear was slung across her back, its silver tip catching light that filtered
through the leaves.
"I—I didn't mean to..." I stammered, voice small. "I just... I thought I heard something..."
The girl raised a hand, cutting off my babbling. She glanced at her wolf, who padded forward to sniff me
curiously. To my shock, its tail started wagging, the flames in its mouth dying away. The girl's shoulders
relaxed, a slight smile tugging at her lips.
"No offense, little lady, but you don't seem like much of a threat," she said, crossing her arms. "Don't
worry—we're not here to hurt anyone."
I managed a weak smile, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Her calm demeanor helped
steady my racing thoughts.
Her eyes caught on the scratch on my arm. "Got yourself a cut there," she said, stepping closer. "Here,
let me help."
I instinctively pulled back, but she gently caught my arm. Her hand was warm, steady. "Hey, don't
worry," she soothed. "This'll only take a second."
Before I could protest, a soft green glow bloomed from her palm. The light sank into my skin, and the
scratch sealed before my eyes, but that wasn't what made me gasp.
Warmth flooded through me, but it wasn't just physical heat. Every knot of anxiety that had lived in my
chest for years simply... dissolved. The constant hum of fear that had become my normal vanished like
mist in sunlight. My knees went weak as wave after wave of perfect calm washed over me.
I had to grab a tree to stay upright, my cheeks flushing at the intensity of it all. My mind felt clear,
unburdened—almost euphoric. A small, breathless "oh" escaped my lips as I tried to process this
impossible feeling of complete peace.
"How... how did you...?" I couldn't even finish the question.
She grinned, though her eyebrows lifted slightly at my reaction. "Healing magic. Never seen it before?
Most people don't get quite so... affected by it."
I shook my head, still staring at my now-unmarked arm. "No, I've never..." The concept itself felt absurd
to say out loud. Magic. Real magic.
She studied me, curiosity bright in her eyes. "Well, wherever you're from, you look pretty out of place.
What are you doing up here?"
I hesitated. How could I explain when I barely understood it myself? "I... I don't know," I admitted. "I
don't remember how I got here."
She tilted her head. "Hmm. Got family nearby?"
The question sent a pang through my chest. Mom's face flashed in my mind—her horror as the arrow
struck, her scream... I looked away, unable to answer.
The girl seemed to understand. "Well," she said gently, "if you need a place to stay, I've got one. It'll be
dark soon."
I nodded, grateful beyond words. "Thank you. I'd... appreciate that."
"I'm Lyra," she said as she started down a narrow path, the wolf padding beside her. "And this is Kai.
Been partners since she was a pup."
I followed, still floating in that wonderful calm her magic had left behind. My fingers found Mom's
bracelet, its familiar touch anchoring me as I tried to process everything. None of this felt real—the
fierce girl, her fire-breathing wolf, the magic that had washed away years of anxiety like it was nothing...
As we walked, Kai dropped back to walk beside me, her presence oddly comforting despite her
impossible nature. The forest gradually thinned, giving way to scattered meadows and winding trails. I
focused on the steady rhythm of our footsteps, the soft crunch of leaves, the whisper of Kai's fur against
my leg.
Finally, we crested a hill, and I stopped short. Rising before us were towering stone walls that wouldn't
have looked out of place in a medieval fantasy game. An arched gateway led into what appeared to be
a city, blue and white banners fluttering above. Armored knights—actual knights with swords and
everything—stood guard at the entrance.
"Welcome to Aleria," Lyra said with a grin. "Capital of Ares. It's a trade hub, so you'll find pretty much
anything you can imagine here—food, weapons, enchantments, you name it."
We passed through the gates, and I tried not to gawk at everything like a tourist. The streets were alive
with activity, but nothing like the familiar bustle of home. A group of children played near a fountain, one
boy conjuring actual flames in his palm while his friends cheered. A merchant's cart rolled past pulled
by creatures that looked like a cross between deer and dragons, their horns spiraling up like polished
silver.
As we walked further into the city, I caught sight of a girl standing off to the side, playing a delicate flute.
Her music filled the air, sweet and haunting, yet no one seemed to notice. She was young, with pointed,
furry ears. Was she... part animal? The sight was strange and captivating, pulling me deeper into the
melody. The notes flowed freely, each one a reminder of a time when I tried to play piano, only to be
overtaken by panic. How could she play so freely?
“She’s... amazing,” I whispered, unable to look away. Her ears—pointed and furry, almost like a
cat’s—twitched with the rhythm of her playing, and I felt a surge of curiosity and awe. I’d never seen
anyone like her before.
Lyra’s gaze softened, but a shadow passed over her face. “You know how it is with humans and other
kinds,” she muttered, almost as if expecting me to understand. “This city doesn’t exactly welcome
everyone equally. There’s… history between us.”
A heaviness settled over me as I took in her words. The girl kept playing, her melody wrapping around
us, unnoticed by the crowd that bustled past her as though she were invisible.
Lyra’s face softened again as she caught my expression, and she nudged me gently. “Let’s not get too
caught up in it. The place we’re headed is just up ahead.”
I nodded, reluctantly tearing my gaze from the girl. But as we walked away, her song stayed with
me—beautiful and haunting. Even through the peaceful haze of Lyra's healing, there was something
about those notes that caught at my thoughts, like a half-remembered dream I couldn't quite grasp.
The tavern door creaked open, spilling warm firelight onto the cobblestones. A sign swung gently
overhead—The Silver Hearth. The name brought a sudden, sharp memory of the corner café back
home where I used to hide between classes, before... everything. I pushed the thought away as we
stepped inside.
The tavern's warmth wrapped around us like a blanket. Kai trotted straight to the hearth, curling up
beside the crackling flames. The room hummed with quiet conversation, so different from the harsh
fluorescent buzz of fast-food places back home. Everything here felt older, worn smooth by time—from
the scarred wooden tables to the brass lanterns casting pools of soft light.
Lyra guided me to the bar where a man stood polishing glasses, his sleeves rolled up to show arms
covered in intricate tattoos that seemed to shift in the lantern light.
"Back already?" he called out, his voice gruff but warm, like the fire at his back.
"Miss me that much, Otto?" Lyra shot back, settling onto a stool. "Or just running low on customers who
can hold their ale?"
Otto barked out a laugh, setting down his glass. "With the way you drink? Never." His eyes shifted to
me, curiosity softening his weathered features. "And who's this?"
I gripped the hem of my hoodie—the fabric suddenly felt so out of place here, like wearing pajamas to a
renaissance fair. "I'm Aria," I managed, the name feeling small in this strange place.
"She's new around here," Lyra added smoothly, filling my awkward silence.
Otto's gaze lingered on me, thoughtful. "That so? Where you from then?"
"A village to the east," I mumbled, the lie bitter on my tongue. But what was I supposed to say? Oh, I'm
from another world entirely, got here by taking an arrow to the chest?
Otto's eyebrows rose as he exchanged a look with Lyra. "East, huh? Nothing out there but ocean,
unless you've been bunking with the merfolk."
My cheeks burned. Great job, Aria. Really nailed that one.
"She's had a rough time," Lyra cut in, her tone carrying a weight that made Otto's teasing smile fade.
"Doesn't remember much of it."
Understanding flickered across his face. "Ah. Well, we've all got things we'd rather leave behind, don't
we?" He turned away, returning with a steaming bowl that he set before me. "Here. Best cure for a
rough day I know."
The rich aroma of herbs and spices made my stomach growl. It wasn't Mom's cooking, but right now it
smelled better than anything I could remember.
"Thank you," I said softly, meaning it for more than just the soup.
Otto waved it off, already turning to other customers, but I caught his small smile.
"So," Lyra said, leaning against the bar. "What do you think of our little corner of the world so far?"
I stirred the soup, watching the steam curl up. "It's... a lot," I admitted. "Everything's so different."
Different from the life I knew, the world I understood, the person I used to be.
"Different can be good," she said gently.
Before I could respond, Otto returned, chuckling as he refilled Lyra's mug. "Different, she says. You
should've seen this one when she first showed up," he jerked his chin toward Lyra. "Green as spring
grass, carrying that oversized spear like it might bite her."
"I was twelve!" Lyra protested. "And that spear was taller than me."
"Still managed to take down that harpy nest though, didn't you?" Otto's eyes crinkled. "Even after I told
you to wait for backup."
"They were stealing children," Lyra said, her voice hardening slightly. "Backup would've been too late."
"And that's why the castle kept you on," Otto nodded. "Always rushing in to help, whether they asked
for it or not."
I watched their easy banter, feeling both warmed and outside of it. They had history, stories, a whole
life in this impossible place. Meanwhile, I was still trying to convince myself it was real.
The fire crackled, throwing shadows across the walls. Other patrons drifted in and out—some with fur
or scales, others with pointed ears or glowing eyes. A bard in the corner plucked something that looked
like a cross between a harp and a living tree, notes shimmering in the air like actual starlight.
Then I felt it—eyes on me. At a shadowed table near the back sat a man with sharp features and
steel-gray hair. He watched me with an intensity that made my skin crawl, like he was solving a puzzle I
didn't know I was part of. When he caught my gaze, he raised his cup in a silent toast, a knowing smile
playing at his lips.
I quickly looked away, but the weight of his stare lingered. Something about him felt... wrong. Like he
didn't quite belong here either, but in a very different way than me.
"Last room on the right upstairs," Otto's voice cut through my unease. He set a key on the bar, worn
brass warm from his grip. "Get some rest. You look like you need it."
I nodded gratefully, gathering up what remained of my courage to head upstairs alone. The wooden
steps creaked under my feet, each sound eerily loud in the quiet corridor.
The room was small but clean, with a bed piled high with quilts that looked handmade. A window
looked out over the city where countless lights twinkled like earthbound stars. It was beautiful, in its
alien way.
I sat on the bed, finally letting exhaustion crash over me. The wonderful calm from Lyra's healing was
fading, leaving me hollow and jittery. Already I missed that perfect peace, that moment when every fear
had simply... vanished.
My gaze caught on the water glass by the bed, and a desperate idea took root. It was stupid.
Dangerous, even. But the memory of that healing magic called to me like a siren song.
I shouldn't, I thought, even as my hand reached for the glass. This is insane.
The glass shattered against the floor with a crystalline crash that made me flinch. For a moment I just
stared at the scattered shards, heart pounding. Then, hands trembling, I picked up a piece, its edge
glinting in the low light.
Just a small cut, I told myself. Just enough to make her heal me again.
The sharp edge bit into my palm, drawing a thin line of blood. Pain sparked through my hand, and for a
moment I felt sick at what I'd done. What was wrong with me?
Footsteps in the hall—then the door opened and Lyra rushed in. Her eyes went straight to my bleeding
hand, concern and something else flickering across her face.
"What happened?" she asked, already reaching for me.
"I... knocked over the glass," I whispered. Guilt churned in my stomach. "It was an accident."
She sighed softly, taking my hand in hers. That beautiful green glow bloomed between us, and relief
washed through me as her magic chased away both pain and fear.
"There," she said gently. But her eyes held questions she didn't voice. "Try to be careful, okay?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. After she left, I cleaned up the glass with shaking hands, shame
warring with the lingering peace of her magic.
Finally, exhaustion won. I curled up under the quilts, their weight somehow comforting. The strange
city's lights flickered beyond my window, a reminder that nothing would ever be the same.
As sleep pulled me under, I wondered what else this new world had in store—and whether I was strong
enough to face it.