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Folded realms
Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The deeper Enidd ventured into the forest, the more she began to feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her like an ill-fitting backpack. Every step seemed to take her further from the world she knew, and closer to something that felt more and more like the twisted fantasy of an overzealous dungeon master.

The trees had grown taller and closer together, their branches weaving into a dense canopy that blocked out much of the remaining daylight. The path ahead was less of a path now and more of a suggestion, with the ground beneath her becoming uneven and littered with roots that seemed determined to trip her up at every opportunity.

As the hours dragged on, Enidd’s initial adrenaline rush had long since faded, replaced by a gnawing hunger and a parched throat. She hadn’t eaten since… well, whenever “before” was, and the lack of water was beginning to make her head swim, much like a fish in the desert. Her thoughts kept drifting back to her empty stomach and the weird lack of vending machines in this bizarre world.

“Alright, priorities,” she muttered to herself, trying to keep the rising panic at bay. “Food, water, shelter. Not necessarily in that order.”

The origami crane perched on her shoulder fluttered its wings as if agreeing, though it had yet to offer any practical advice. Enidd glanced around, hoping for some sign of civilization—or at least something that wasn’t trying to kill her.

That’s when she heard it: a faint rustling in the from the bushes to her left, followed by a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver down her spine. Enidd froze, her senses suddenly on high alert. The sound came again, closer this time, accompanied by the unmistakable chatter of voices. Except these voices weren’t human.

She barely had time to react before they appeared: three small, green-skinned creatures with beady eyes and wicked grins, emerging from the shadows like something out of a nightmare. Goblins. Or at least, that’s what they looked like to Enidd, who had seen more than her fair share of fantasy movies.

The goblins weren’t tall, barely reaching up to her waist, but what they lacked in height, they made up for in sharpness—sharp teeth, sharp claws, and the sharp points of the crude spears they held in their grubby little hands. They didn’t look particularly intimidating, but their quick, jerky movements and the gleam in their eyes gave Enidd pause.

She gripped the branch she had picked up earlier, holding it out in front of her like a makeshift sword. The goblins eyed her weapon, then each other, their grins widening as if they found the whole situation amusing.

“Stay back!” Enidd warned, her voice coming out shakier than she intended. The goblins didn’t seem to understand—or care. One of them let out a shrill cackle, and before she knew it, they were charging at her, their small bodies surprisingly fast and agile.

Enidd swung her branch in a wide arc, trying to keep them at bay, but the goblins were too quick. The first one dodged easily, darting to her left, while the second went right, circling her like a pack of wolves. The third goblin took advantage of her split attention, lunging forward with its spear aimed at her legs.

With a yelp, Enidd jumped back, barely avoiding the sharp point. She swung the branch again, this time managing to catch the third goblin on the side of its head. The creature let out a screech of pain, stumbling back with a hand pressed to its skull. But the other two were undeterred, closing in from either side.

Panic surged through her, and she swung the branch wildly. She felt the solid thud of wood connecting with goblin flesh, followed by another pained yelp. But just as she thought she might have the upper hand, a sharp pain erupted in her shoulder.

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Enidd cried out as one of the goblins’ spears grazed her, the force of the impact sending her stumbling forward. She could feel the warmth of blood trickling down her arm, but there was no time to dwell on it. The goblins were regrouping, their beady eyes fixed on her with renewed determination.

Desperation took hold, and with a burst of energy she didn’t know she had left, Enidd swung the branch with all her might, catching one of the goblins square in the chest. The creature was knocked off its feet, landing in a heap on the forest floor. She rushed forward, continuing to club the goblin. The other two hesitated, their grins faltering as they realised this prey might not be as easy as they’d thought.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Enidd shouted, brandishing the branch like a club. “You want some more?”

The goblins exchanged glances, their earlier bravado replaced with caution. Slowly, they began to back away, their small feet shuffling through the leaves. Enidd didn’t take her eyes off them until they had retreated into the shadows, their chatter fading into the distance.

When she was sure they were gone, she finally allowed herself to collapse against a nearby tree, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving her weak and trembling. The pain in her shoulder was a sharp reminder that she was far from safe.

She looked down at the bloodstain spreading across her pyjama top and grimaced. “Great. Just what I needed.”

The origami crane fluttered down from her shoulder, landing gently on her lap. It tilted its head up at her, as if to say, “You really need to work on your fighting technique.”

“Thanks for the help,” she muttered sarcastically, though she was secretly grateful for the company, even if it was just a piece of enchanted paper.

Night was falling fast, the forest growing darker and more foreboding with each passing minute. Enidd knew she couldn’t stay out in the open, not with creatures like those goblins lurking around. She needed to find a place to rest, somewhere safe where she could at least try to get some sleep and figure out what to do next.

Using the branch for support, Enidd forced herself to stand. Every muscle in her body protested, but she couldn’t afford to stop now. She scanned the area, searching for anything that might serve as shelter—a cave, a large tree with thick branches, anything.

After what felt like an eternity of stumbling through the darkening woods, she finally spotted a small, rocky outcrop up ahead. It wasn’t much, but it offered a bit of cover from the elements and a narrow space where she could squeeze in and hopefully stay hidden from any more wandering goblins.

She made her way over, wincing with each step, and crawled into the small alcove. It was a tight fit, and the ground was cold and hard, but it was better than nothing. Exhausted and in pain, Enidd leaned back against the rock and let out a long, shaky breath.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she still hadn’t found any food or water. But for now, all she could think about was getting some rest. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to conserve what little warmth she had.

The origami crane settled beside her, its paper wings folded neatly as if it were preparing to sleep as well. Enidd eyed it, not quite sure if she should be envious or irritated. "Nice for you," she muttered, "no monsters hunting down paper cranes, are there?"

Every rustle in the nearby bushes seemed to be auditioning for the role of “ominous forest sound,” and each whisper of the wind carried with it the distinct tone of something planning to eat her. Enidd shivered and forced herself to stay awake, her mind racing through a mental checklist of all the things that could go wrong while she slept, which included but was not limited to: being eaten, captured, cursed, or—worst of all—getting a stiff neck.

But exhaustion, as it often does, didn’t care much for logic or lists. Her eyelids began to droop, despite her best efforts. “Stay awake, stay awake,” she whispered, as though the words alone could hold off the tidal wave of fatigue. Unfortunately, her body had filed an official complaint and was now shutting down for mandatory maintenance.

“Fine,” she mumbled, surrendering to the inevitable. “Just… let me wake up in one piece and not as dinner.”