Summary: you receive help from an unexpected character
Author's Note: wooo part 2! I swear Azriel is going to show up next chapter I promise. I'm going to be pretty busy with work and my personal life this week so I don't know how much time I'll have to write, but I'll try to get part three out as soon as possible!
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Breathe in for three. Hold your breath for three. Breathe out for three.
Long, deep breaths timed down to the second to slow your heartbeat and regulate your breathing.
It was a trick that you had learned back in high school when the stress of classes, work, clubs and being a teenager had threatened to pull you under. Now you used it to try and regain some semblance of control.
In for three. Hold for three. Breathe for three.
You did this over and over and over. A simple action you could control when everything else was completely out of control.
Eventually, your tears slowed enough that you were able to focus back on the being in front of you. You had a vague idea of who it might have been, names and titles flowing through your mind. The Suriel probably or maybe the Bone-Carver? But those two had died at the end of the third book. Then again you had no idea when you had landed and you doubted that the island stuck to the same calendar you were used to. You tried to match the being in front of you to the character descriptions you faintly remembered and the fanart you looked up when you first read the books.
“Are you…Bryaxis?” you guessed. It was strange. The being had no real defining features, no recognizable face or body, but you seemed to still be able to read their expressions. And right now they seemed surprised you knew who they were.
“you know who i am,” she said, confirming your guess. At that, you let out a short, sharp laugh.
“Yeah I guess you could say that,” you replied.
Once again, silence fell over the clearing as Bryaxis studied you and you did the same. If you were in Prythian, talking to a legendary nightmare creature that probably meant you were over the Wall in one of the seven courts. Given that Bryaxis had been bound to the Night Court library originally, it stood to reason that you were in the Night Court right now. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you weren’t even in one of the Courts at all. Your mind raced as you tried to parse out what was going on and what you should do next. The rational part of your brain was telling you to come up with a course of action, a plan to do something. The less rational part of your brain wanted to curl up in a ball and cry some more.
“Do you…do you know where we are?” you asked.
“the middle,” Bryaxis said. Which meant that the Dawn Court was to the north and the Winter Court to the south. You didn’t remember many details about this section of land besides the fact that the meanest, nastiest creature tended to end up here.
Oh God, you were going to die.
“I can’t, I can’t be here,” you said as you started hyperventilating. “I have to go home, I have to get back, I-I’m not supposed to be here.”
“there is no going back. you may slip through to prythian but you cannot slip back,” Bryaxis said.
“What do you mean there’s no going back? I-I have a life, I have a job and friends and family, they’re going to be worried about me. I need to go back.”
“you are not the first to slip nor will you be the last. there is no way to go back to where you came from. it is not possible.”
“It has to be possible! Isn't there magic here? There has to be something or someone, someone who can send me home!” you cried.
“no. there is nothing. to create a portal to the world you originated would be like casting a line into an ocean, hoping to catch the same fish twice. you would just slip into another world. or worse you would slip in between two,” said Bryaxis.
“So I just live here now? I just accept that I’ll never see my family or my friends again?” you asked.
“Yes.”
You scoffed and looked down at your hands. The pads of fingers had wrinkled from being in the water for so long and the soft shine of water still covered your palms. What Bryaxis was saying, the idea that you would never go back to the world you were born into…it felt impossible to accept. You were in a land where soulmates existed, and magic flowed freely. Surely there was a solution to your problem.
You couldn’t fathom never returning home. Never hearing about your friend's latest relationship drama. Never getting drinks with your sister and discussing the latest crazy thing your cousin had done. Never hugging your mother or hearing her say “I love you” again. No, you wouldn’t accept it. You couldn’t. Because if you did, if you accepted that you were a woman out of time and space, it meant accepting that everything you’ve ever known was effectively dead and gone. It meant grieving the people and places you loved with all your heart, knowing they continued to live just out of your reach.
“What am I supposed to do then?” you asked.
“i cannot answer that question. only you may decide on your actions,” Bryaxis replied.
“I just got launched into another world with nothing but my goddamn purse. I’m soaking wet and in the middle of a fucking nightmare forest. There’s a strong chance something straight out of a horror movie attacks me in the next fifteen minutes and you’re telling me I need to decide my own actions? I can barely decide what to eat for dinner in my own dimension!” you yelled.
“i cannot choose your path for you,” she said.
“That doesn’t matter because I’m going to die before I get to make any decision! I don’t know how to fight or how to do magic and I’m gonna get eaten. This is how I die. I get eaten by a fucking kelpie or something,” you said.
Bryaxis considered you for a moment before speaking.
“there is a cottage. it is a ways from here, but it is warded and it is empty. it is a safe place for you to rest and to decide on your future,” she said.
You signed but pushed to your feet. It wasn’t like you had any other options and you really wanted to get out of your wet shoes. Bryaxis, seeing your resigned acceptance of her offer, turned and started making her way through the forest. You followed a few feet behind, wet socks squishing into your toes with every step. The panic and adrenaline that coursed through your body when you first ended up on the shore had faded; now you just felt tired. Goosebumps covered your upper arms and you hugged yourself in an attempt to keep in some warmth. Wet hair stuck to your face and your damp clothes did nothing to abate the chill that had set into your body.
As you made your way through the forest, you began to notice how different it was from forests back home. The canopy of leaves was thick, allowing for little light to shine through. Dark green moss covered the thick trunks of towering pines and small white mushrooms grew between their twisted roots. A foggy mist combined with the dark shadows cast by the multitude of trees and plants made it difficult to see past your immediate surroundings. You were stumbling after Bryaxis, trying to keep up with her fast pace, but it was difficult. Large stones and branches covered the ground and as far as you could tell there wasn’t an actual path she was following. You had to keep your eyes focused on the ground, but the constant noises echoing through the branches had your wide eyes trying to peer through the mist and shadow. A cacophony of sounds surrounded you, some as familiar as the birds that sang outside of your bedroom window each morning and some completely alien to you, like the low menacing growls of some beast.
The pair of you walked for a while before Bryaxis slowed to a stop.
In front of you, an overgrown stone path led to a cottage. It was small, probably only two or three rooms, with a thatched roof and stone chimney. Wind chimes made of stone, glass and bone hung in front of the door and danced in the wind. The two windows were dark, giving no indication of what lay inside. It must have been old since it seemed the forest had grown around the structure. Giant tree trunks stood inches from its walls and thick branches obscured the roof from view in certain spots. You hesitantly started walking up to it, passing by Bryaxis on your way to the front door.
“this place has not been inhabited for some years. the wards will keep out unwelcome visitors,” said Bryaxis.
“Who lived here?” you asked her.
“stryga. an old one. she was confined here for many years before she was killed,” Bryaxis said.
This was the Weaver’s cottage then. You also had a clue to where you fell in the timeline. It had been some time since you last read the series but you know she had died in the third book. Strangely, you felt a small bit of relief at the fact that you weren’t living in a time of active war. Of course, based on your faint memories of the following books that didn’t mean things were necessarily peaceful. You stared at the heavy wooden door for a moment before turning back to Bryaxis.
“How come no one else has started living in it?” you asked.
“i warded it shortly after stryga’s death. i stayed here for a time when i was first released from captivity,” she told you.
You stared for another moment before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the entire walk.
“Why are you helping me?”
The shadows of Bryaxis’s body expanded and contracted in an imitation of a sign as a faraway look appeared in her silver eyes.
“i slipped. it occurred eons ago, but i remember my home. i was not unusual there. my magic was not something that was feared. when i arrived here, i was confused and frightened like you are now. i hurt others and i hurt myself. it took centuries for me to understand what happened to me and by that point i had been confined to my prison. it is difficult to adjust to a new world, to understand new surroundings and to build a new life. i am simply doing what i wish one had done for me,”
“Thank you,” you said.
She nodded and spoke again.
“you will be safe as you decide your path. i shall return on the morrow to take you to the Cally Berry. you will need a glamour from her if you wish to thrive in these lands.”
“What kind of glamour?”
“one to speak and hear the language of this world and one to hide your otherness from its inhabitants.”
That made you pause. Now that you thought about it, it would be strange if everyone here spoke English. But since you had been conversing with Bryaxis with no issue, the problem of a language barrier hadn’t crossed your mind at all.
“How come you can speak to me then?” you asked her.
“my magic allows me to communicate in one’s natural language,” she said.
“Alright,” you said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Bryaxis didn’t respond, instead turning and disappearing back into the forests. You stood there for a second staring at the stop in the trees where she had vanished until a particularly violent snarl roused you to movement. You quickly made your way to the cottage and pulled the heavy door open. The room inside was dark, but from the vague shapes you could make out, it appeared filled to the brim with stuff.
Closing the door with a heavy thud, you carefully moved to where weak light shone through the window. Using the faint rays you were able to locate a small jar of matches and a half melted candle. You lit it and used the small flame to light a number of small lanterns hanging from the ceiling near the front door. With more light, you were able to take in wooden bookshelves stuffed with an abundance of different things. Jars full of brightly colored liquid, some with dead animals suspended inside, old leatherbound books, carved wooden boxes and painted figurines took up most of the space. Smaller objects like intricate jewelry, bones, rocks, and broken pottery were shoved in the open spaces and stacked on top of the larger items. Bundles of dried plants hung from the ceiling along with garlands strung with buttons and tassels. On the other side of the room, a large stone fireplace sat unlit with a gnarled wooden table and chair in front of it. Above the fireplace hung an assortment of pots and pans with a small counter sitting next to it with an assortment of kitchen utensils on it.
Opposite the front door, a large weaving loom dominated the space. On the wall behind it were shelves filled with cones of thread in every color imaginable. A half-finished project was strung on the loom, but dust had settled onto the fabric, indicating that it hadn’t been used in some time. Next to the loom was another door with a polished metal knob.
You approached the door and opened it to reveal a small bedroom.
The space was small with barely enough room to fit the three pieces of furniture inside. A carved wooden bedframe sat in the center of the room, piled high with blankets and pillow. A small vanity was pushed against one wall, covered in jars, vials, and pots. Opposite the vanity, a large wardrobe made of dark polished wood stood.
You opened the wardrobe and rifled through until you found a plain linen shift. Tiredly, you stripped out of your wet clothes into a wet pile on the floor and put on the shift. You grabbed the blankets from the bed and quickly shook them out, hoping to get at least some of the dust out before laying them back atop the mattress.
With a sigh you crawled into the bed and pulled the blankets up to your chin. Quickly, exhaustion overcame your body and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Summary: you receive help from an unexpected character
Author's Note: wooo part 2! I swear Azriel is going to show up next chapter I promise. I'm going to be pretty busy with work and my personal life this week so I don't know how much time I'll have to write, but I'll try to get part three out as soon as possible!
------
Breathe in for three. Hold your breath for three. Breathe out for three.
Long, deep breaths timed down to the second to slow your heartbeat and regulate your breathing.
It was a trick that you had learned back in high school when the stress of classes, work, clubs and being a teenager had threatened to pull you under. Now you used it to try and regain some semblance of control.
In for three. Hold for three. Breathe for three.
You did this over and over and over. A simple action you could control when everything else was completely out of control.
Eventually, your tears slowed enough that you were able to focus back on the being in front of you. You had a vague idea of who it might have been, names and titles flowing through your mind. The Suriel probably or maybe the Bone-Carver? But those two had died at the end of the third book. Then again you had no idea when you had landed and you doubted that the island stuck to the same calendar you were used to. You tried to match the being in front of you to the character descriptions you faintly remembered and the fanart you looked up when you first read the books.
“Are you…Bryaxis?” you guessed. It was strange. The being had no real defining features, no recognizable face or body, but you seemed to still be able to read their expressions. And right now they seemed surprised you knew who they were.
“you know who i am,” she said, confirming your guess. At that, you let out a short, sharp laugh.
“Yeah I guess you could say that,” you replied.
Once again, silence fell over the clearing as Bryaxis studied you and you did the same. If you were in Prythian, talking to a legendary nightmare creature that probably meant you were over the Wall in one of the seven courts. Given that Bryaxis had been bound to the Night Court library originally, it stood to reason that you were in the Night Court right now. But maybe you weren’t. Maybe you weren’t even in one of the Courts at all. Your mind raced as you tried to parse out what was going on and what you should do next. The rational part of your brain was telling you to come up with a course of action, a plan to do something. The less rational part of your brain wanted to curl up in a ball and cry some more.
“Do you…do you know where we are?” you asked.
“the middle,” Bryaxis said. Which meant that the Dawn Court was to the north and the Winter Court to the south. You didn’t remember many details about this section of land besides the fact that the meanest, nastiest creature tended to end up here.
Oh God, you were going to die.
“I can’t, I can’t be here,” you said as you started hyperventilating. “I have to go home, I have to get back, I-I’m not supposed to be here.”
“there is no going back. you may slip through to prythian but you cannot slip back,” Bryaxis said.
“What do you mean there’s no going back? I-I have a life, I have a job and friends and family, they’re going to be worried about me. I need to go back.”
“you are not the first to slip nor will you be the last. there is no way to go back to where you came from. it is not possible.”
“It has to be possible! Isn't there magic here? There has to be something or someone, someone who can send me home!” you cried.
“no. there is nothing. to create a portal to the world you originated would be like casting a line into an ocean, hoping to catch the same fish twice. you would just slip into another world. or worse you would slip in between two,” said Bryaxis.
“So I just live here now? I just accept that I’ll never see my family or my friends again?” you asked.
“Yes.”
You scoffed and looked down at your hands. The pads of fingers had wrinkled from being in the water for so long and the soft shine of water still covered your palms. What Bryaxis was saying, the idea that you would never go back to the world you were born into…it felt impossible to accept. You were in a land where soulmates existed, and magic flowed freely. Surely there was a solution to your problem.
You couldn’t fathom never returning home. Never hearing about your friend's latest relationship drama. Never getting drinks with your sister and discussing the latest crazy thing your cousin had done. Never hugging your mother or hearing her say “I love you” again. No, you wouldn’t accept it. You couldn’t. Because if you did, if you accepted that you were a woman out of time and space, it meant accepting that everything you’ve ever known was effectively dead and gone. It meant grieving the people and places you loved with all your heart, knowing they continued to live just out of your reach.
“What am I supposed to do then?” you asked.
“i cannot answer that question. only you may decide on your actions,” Bryaxis replied.
“I just got launched into another world with nothing but my goddamn purse. I’m soaking wet and in the middle of a fucking nightmare forest. There’s a strong chance something straight out of a horror movie attacks me in the next fifteen minutes and you’re telling me I need to decide my own actions? I can barely decide what to eat for dinner in my own dimension!” you yelled.
“i cannot choose your path for you,” she said.
“That doesn’t matter because I’m going to die before I get to make any decision! I don’t know how to fight or how to do magic and I’m gonna get eaten. This is how I die. I get eaten by a fucking kelpie or something,” you said.
Bryaxis considered you for a moment before speaking.
“there is a cottage. it is a ways from here, but it is warded and it is empty. it is a safe place for you to rest and to decide on your future,” she said.
You signed but pushed to your feet. It wasn’t like you had any other options and you really wanted to get out of your wet shoes. Bryaxis, seeing your resigned acceptance of her offer, turned and started making her way through the forest. You followed a few feet behind, wet socks squishing into your toes with every step. The panic and adrenaline that coursed through your body when you first ended up on the shore had faded; now you just felt tired. Goosebumps covered your upper arms and you hugged yourself in an attempt to keep in some warmth. Wet hair stuck to your face and your damp clothes did nothing to abate the chill that had set into your body.
As you made your way through the forest, you began to notice how different it was from forests back home. The canopy of leaves was thick, allowing for little light to shine through. Dark green moss covered the thick trunks of towering pines and small white mushrooms grew between their twisted roots. A foggy mist combined with the dark shadows cast by the multitude of trees and plants made it difficult to see past your immediate surroundings. You were stumbling after Bryaxis, trying to keep up with her fast pace, but it was difficult. Large stones and branches covered the ground and as far as you could tell there wasn’t an actual path she was following. You had to keep your eyes focused on the ground, but the constant noises echoing through the branches had your wide eyes trying to peer through the mist and shadow. A cacophony of sounds surrounded you, some as familiar as the birds that sang outside of your bedroom window each morning and some completely alien to you, like the low menacing growls of some beast.
The pair of you walked for a while before Bryaxis slowed to a stop.
In front of you, an overgrown stone path led to a cottage. It was small, probably only two or three rooms, with a thatched roof and stone chimney. Wind chimes made of stone, glass and bone hung in front of the door and danced in the wind. The two windows were dark, giving no indication of what lay inside. It must have been old since it seemed the forest had grown around the structure. Giant tree trunks stood inches from its walls and thick branches obscured the roof from view in certain spots. You hesitantly started walking up to it, passing by Bryaxis on your way to the front door.
“this place has not been inhabited for some years. the wards will keep out unwelcome visitors,” said Bryaxis.
“Who lived here?” you asked her.
“stryga. an old one. she was confined here for many years before she was killed,” Bryaxis said.
This was the Weaver’s cottage then. You also had a clue to where you fell in the timeline. It had been some time since you last read the series but you know she had died in the third book. Strangely, you felt a small bit of relief at the fact that you weren’t living in a time of active war. Of course, based on your faint memories of the following books that didn’t mean things were necessarily peaceful. You stared at the heavy wooden door for a moment before turning back to Bryaxis.
“How come no one else has started living in it?” you asked.
“i warded it shortly after stryga’s death. i stayed here for a time when i was first released from captivity,” she told you.
You stared for another moment before asking the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the entire walk.
“Why are you helping me?”
The shadows of Bryaxis’s body expanded and contracted in an imitation of a sign as a faraway look appeared in her silver eyes.
“i slipped. it occurred eons ago, but i remember my home. i was not unusual there. my magic was not something that was feared. when i arrived here, i was confused and frightened like you are now. i hurt others and i hurt myself. it took centuries for me to understand what happened to me and by that point i had been confined to my prison. it is difficult to adjust to a new world, to understand new surroundings and to build a new life. i am simply doing what i wish one had done for me,”
“Thank you,” you said.
She nodded and spoke again.
“you will be safe as you decide your path. i shall return on the morrow to take you to the Cally Berry. you will need a glamour from her if you wish to thrive in these lands.”
“What kind of glamour?”
“one to speak and hear the language of this world and one to hide your otherness from its inhabitants.”
That made you pause. Now that you thought about it, it would be strange if everyone here spoke English. But since you had been conversing with Bryaxis with no issue, the problem of a language barrier hadn’t crossed your mind at all.
“How come you can speak to me then?” you asked her.
“my magic allows me to communicate in one’s natural language,” she said.
“Alright,” you said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Bryaxis didn’t respond, instead turning and disappearing back into the forests. You stood there for a second staring at the stop in the trees where she had vanished until a particularly violent snarl roused you to movement. You quickly made your way to the cottage and pulled the heavy door open. The room inside was dark, but from the vague shapes you could make out, it appeared filled to the brim with stuff.
Closing the door with a heavy thud, you carefully moved to where weak light shone through the window. Using the faint rays you were able to locate a small jar of matches and a half melted candle. You lit it and used the small flame to light a number of small lanterns hanging from the ceiling near the front door. With more light, you were able to take in wooden bookshelves stuffed with an abundance of different things. Jars full of brightly colored liquid, some with dead animals suspended inside, old leatherbound books, carved wooden boxes and painted figurines took up most of the space. Smaller objects like intricate jewelry, bones, rocks, and broken pottery were shoved in the open spaces and stacked on top of the larger items. Bundles of dried plants hung from the ceiling along with garlands strung with buttons and tassels. On the other side of the room, a large stone fireplace sat unlit with a gnarled wooden table and chair in front of it. Above the fireplace hung an assortment of pots and pans with a small counter sitting next to it with an assortment of kitchen utensils on it.
Opposite the front door, a large weaving loom dominated the space. On the wall behind it were shelves filled with cones of thread in every color imaginable. A half-finished project was strung on the loom, but dust had settled onto the fabric, indicating that it hadn’t been used in some time. Next to the loom was another door with a polished metal knob.
You approached the door and opened it to reveal a small bedroom.
The space was small with barely enough room to fit the three pieces of furniture inside. A carved wooden bedframe sat in the center of the room, piled high with blankets and pillow. A small vanity was pushed against one wall, covered in jars, vials, and pots. Opposite the vanity, a large wardrobe made of dark polished wood stood.
You opened the wardrobe and rifled through until you found a plain linen shift. Tiredly, you stripped out of your wet clothes into a wet pile on the floor and put on the shift. You grabbed the blankets from the bed and quickly shook them out, hoping to get at least some of the dust out before laying them back atop the mattress.
With a sigh you crawled into the bed and pulled the blankets up to your chin. Quickly, exhaustion overcame your body and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
just wanted to say I'm very very grateful for the love on the first chapter of Into the Unknown. This is my first time actually posting something I've written so to see all of the love is amazing. I'm working on the next part rn and hope to get it posted by Sunday!!
Summary: Falling into a portal to a fictional world was not on your agenda for your night out.
Author's Note: my first ever x reader fic ahhhhh. Anyway, I've been toying with this idea for a hot sec and I figured I'd finally actually write it out lol.
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If you knew you were going to fall into a portal, you would’ve brought a bigger purse. But when you started getting ready for a night out with your friends, you decided to only bring the essentials – wallet, phone, charger, and your trusty lip combo.
The Atlas was one of the few bars in town that could be relied on to play good music, something evident by the numerous bodies on the dance floor. The air smelled like sweat and cigarette smoke with a slight undercurrent of a fruity perfume from someone who never learned restraint. You could feel a bead of sweat run down the center of your back and the slight frizz your hair had gained from the heat of everyone packed together. At some point, the press of people against you has shifted from comfortable to claustrophobic. You felt a thread of anxiety curl in your chest. Buzz worn off, the colored lights were too bright, the bass too loud, and the dance floor just too damn hot.
The music transitioned to a throwback from the 2000s. The bass thrummed, mirroring the headache growing at your temples. Pulling your phone from your shoulder bag, you could see the time had just passed midnight. Shoving it back in amongst the lip glosses and charging cord you craned your neck trying to get a glimpse of your friends. Two of them were standing by the bar, while the third was pressed up against a man. You dodged and weaved through the grinding couples and girls screaming lyrics at each other to reach the duo at the bar.
“How are you guys feeling?” you shouted at them.
“Pretty good,” one yelled back. You leaned in until your ear was an inch from her mouth.
“We’re ordering another round and then I think we’re going to hit Rosie’s,” she shouted.
“I think I might head out,” you shouted back. “I’m pretty tired and I have a bunch of stuff to do tomorrow.”
She nodded in understanding, asking if you were going to get an Uber back to your apartment. You assured them you would and promised to text when you were home. In turn, you asked them to keep an eye on the fourth member of your group who currently had her tongue in someone else’s mouth.
With a final goodbye, you shoved your way through the mass of people, until you stumbled out into the cool night air. Once again, you pulled your phone out to order a car. If you were lucky maybe you could be in bed by one. Quickly checking the street, you dashed across to the small blinking dot on your screen that showed where the car would get you. A street light cast a circle of illumination on the sidewalk. There, you stood and waited. It was some yards away from the bar’s entrance. You turned from the concrete buildings and looked out over the river. The dark water reflected the lights before smoothing out into an inky blackness. The only barrier between you and the water were short concrete bricks. You wondered how many drunk girls had fallen into the river trying to walk atop them. You stared into the water and wondered what stared back.
The pain wasn’t noticeable at first. At least nothing that couldn’t be chalked up to the vague ache that followed after a night out. Maybe if it had been more intense at first you could have done something. Could’ve called for help. Could’ve gotten someone’s attention. But the slow creeping ache was unremarkable until it wasn’t. By the time you realized something was really wrong it had radiated out from your chest, turning from an ache into a sharp pain. It felt like someone had wrapped a hand around one of your ribs and pulled. You stumbled forward, knees hitting the unforgiving concrete. One hand grabbed at your chest as the other flew out to stop your fall. But where you should have felt the sharp sting of concrete on your palm, you felt only nothing. The pain pulsated again drawing you forward. Something was pulling, tugging. You gasped and lurched forward, falling into the dark water.
It should’ve been fine. Even with the unrelenting pain that now permeated your body, you still should have been fine. You knew how to swim. Your buzz had worn off hours ago. You should have been able to kick your legs and break through the surface. But it seemed like no matter how hard you kicked and fought and thrashed you kept sinking. That pull in your chest, the one that had caused you to fall in the first place now pulled you down. Pain radiated through you, an agony that seemed to burrow down into the marrow of your bones.
Down, down you sunk. Farther and farther. No light shone through the water. The lack of light made it hard to gauge how you moved. It was only the vague sensation of water rippling past your skin that gave you any indication that you were actually moving at all. Time seemed to stretch, seconds turning into minutes and minutes turning into hours. You honestly didn’t know how much time had passed since you fell into the water. It seemed like you drowned for eons until suddenly you felt a shift in the water. It seemed that whatever pulled you down, tethering you to the deep void had abated somewhat. Your legs kicked and for the first time since you fell in, you were able to maneuver yourself through the water. As you squinted, you even thought you saw the glimmer of light. With your newfound freedom, you kicked and swam towards that glimmer, watching it grow and sharpen into focus, until your face broke through the surface. Taking huge gasping breaths you pushed yourself towards the shore with all the grace of a newborn fawn. Once your feet touched muddy ground, you clawed yourself halfway out. Bent over on hands and knees, you coughed up water until you thought you could take a deep breath without half drowning. You stayed like that for a minute on all fours, taking in huge shuddering breaths as you tried to orient yourself. You no longer felt the immense pain deep in your chest, but your throat felt raw from swallowing so much water and then immediately throwing it all back up. Once you wrestled your breathing under some semblance of control, you lifted your head taking in your surroundings. Looking around you felt the tight coil of anxiety in your chest grow tenfold.
You weren’t on the sidewalk outside the bar. You didn’t think you were anywhere near the bar at all. Instead, you were hunched on the shore of a small pond in the middle of a clearing. Tall pine trees towered around the edges of the clearing and you could hear the soft song of birds and the rustle of leaves in the wind. You sunk back until you sat on your haunches, your hands fisting in the fabric of your skirt. The only thought that seemed to echo through your mind was “This is not the Atlas.”
Somehow – despite the turbulent journey you had experienced – you had managed to keep a hold of your bright pink purse. With shaking hands, you unzipped it pulling out your damp phone. With a soft tap, you woke the screen up. No service, but you hadn't expected to get any in the middle of an unknown forest. Swiping the screen, you pulled up the emergency call page and with shaky fingers, dialed 911. The phone began to ring, the sound echoing through the clearing. It rang and rang and rang. Finally it disconnected with a soft beep.
This was bad. This was very, very bad.
The tears started slowly, but as your breathing quicked so did the gasping, heaving sobs as your body folded in on itself. Your wet hair hung around your face as hot tears fell onto the ground. You were never a pretty crier and the complete and utter fear you felt did nothing to help.
After a few minutes of completely losing it, you noticed that the soft noises of the forest had seemed to…quiet. You knew little about the normal sounds of a forest, having spent your whole life in the suburbs. But a distant part of you remembered hearing that when the birds and other small animals went silent, it meant that something dangerous was near.
This was it you thought. This was how you were going to die. Transported to some random pond in the middle of a random forest torn about by a wolf or a bear or a very angry moose.
“If you’re going to kill me get it over with already,” you croaked out. The forest didn’t respond. You sat like that for another few minutes in silence that was only broken by your soft sniffles. A shadow shifted in your periphery drawing your attention to the side. Squinting into the darkness you could barely make out a mass of shadows and the glint of what might’ve been claws or teeth. Your heart stuttered in your chest.
The being shifted through the shadows of the trees, closer to you.
“Please,” you said. You didn’t know what you were asking for. You saw the being shift, almost like it was cocking its head, considering you.
“you are far from home,” came a voice like steel over stone. It wasn’t spoken out loud. It felt more like hearing your own inner monologue. Except the voice inside your head had never been so ancient sounding..
“I don’t know where I am,” you responded. The shadowy being gave what appeared to be a nod, before stepping out of the treeline into the clearing. The clear view of it gave little insight into its appearance. Even in plain view it seemed to be a shifting, shapeless mass of darkness. Every so often a shadow would move to just the right place giving you a glimpse of a claw or tooth. The only thing you could make out clearly were two solid silver eyes..
“you are in Prythian,” the being said.
Prythian. Like the…fictional Prythian? Prythian, the island full of magic and fae that didn’t actually exist because it was from a fictional romance series. Oh God, you thought right as you started hysterically laughing.
“This, this is a joke right? Some sort of really elaborate prank?” you asked.
Its eyes gleamed out of the dark being as it said “this is no joke. you have slipped between.”
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