Iris’s eyes fluttered open, her head swimming with dizziness. The air around her was thick with a strange energy, and she could feel the weight of something ancient, something alive, drawing her in. She blinked, trying to adjust her vision, and found herself in the midst of an enchanting forest. The light was soft and ethereal, cascading through a high canopy of ancient trees. Each sunbeam refracted into prismatic colors, scattering rainbows across the forest floor. A faint mist clung to the ground, shimmering as if it were dusted with stardust. The trees around her were colossal, their trunks twisted and spiraled skyward like sentient sculptures, towering over her with an aura of quiet majesty.
Everything felt so familiar, like a dream she had long ago forgotten—something she knew, but couldn’t fully remember. As she stepped forward, her eyes locked on something that made her heart skip. There, dotting the floor beneath her feet, were the same delicate flowers she had seen in the garden—the ones with petals like spun glass, glowing with an otherworldly light. They seemed to pulse with energy, as if alive. She felt an inexplicable connection to them.
Turning, she noticed a figure kneeling by one of the flowers. A woman, cloaked in an intricate green robe, her hood drawn low over her face. Iris instinctively moved closer, her steps quickening. “Hey, excuse me?” Iris called out, her voice cutting through the silence. “Do you know where I am?”
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The woman didn’t respond. Her hands moved slowly, reverently, brushing over the petals of the flower as if communicating with it in some silent language. Iris stepped closer, curiosity gnawing at her.
The woman’s voice was a soft murmur, as though speaking to a living thing. “You will grow to help many creatures and people,” she said, as if the flower could understand her.
Iris moved forward until she was standing directly in front of the woman. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the woman’s appearance.
Her heart slammed against her chest. The woman looked just like her—like a version of herself, only older, more composed. Her midnight waves of hair shimmered with subtle hints of green, catching the light like liquid obsidian. Her skin, a warm olive tone, mirrored Iris’s own, and her eyes—those deep, forest-green eyes flecked with gold—were like sunlight filtering through a dense canopy. It was like staring at a reflection of herself, but from a different time, a different place.
Iris gasped. “Excuse me—”
Before she could speak further, her vision began to shift violently, the world around her dissolving into a blur of color and sound.