The forest deepened as I walked, its vibrant life humming with an energy that seemed to pulse in time with my pendant. The power I’d felt earlier had waned, but the memory of lifting that fallen tree with ease still brought a grin to my face. Whatever this world had given me, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced on Earth.
The trees grew taller and denser, their canopy blotting out the sunlight in patches. The air felt heavier now, charged with a sense of tension that made my steps more cautious. I scanned the ground as I walked, careful not to make too much noise. Something told me I wasn’t alone.
A rustling to my left caught my attention. I froze, my breath hitching as I turned slowly. A group of small creatures emerged from the underbrush—fox-like animals with glowing eyes and fur that shimmered like a rainbow in motion. They were beautiful and alien, their movements graceful as they studied me from a safe distance.
“Hey there, little guys,” I said softly, crouching to make myself less imposing. They tilted their heads in unison, their curiosity tempered by caution.
For a moment, I thought I might get closer to them. Then, they froze, their ears twitching in alarm. Without warning, they bolted into the shadows. That’s when I heard it—a low, rumbling growl behind me.
I turned, my muscles stiffening as I locked eyes with a panther-like creature stepping out from the trees. Its sleek black fur shimmered with glowing blue stripes that pulsed like veins. Golden eyes fixed on me, unblinking, as the beast lowered itself into a stalking posture.
I stayed perfectly still, my mind racing through everything I knew about animal behavior. No sudden movements. No direct eye contact. Slowly, I backed away, keeping the predator in my peripheral vision. It sniffed the air, growled once more, and then slunk back into the shadows, disappearing as quietly as it had appeared.
I let out a shaky breath, my heart hammering. “Close call,” I muttered, forcing my legs to move again. The forest seemed calmer now, though I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
The urge to move was still there, but it had lessened. Curious about the strange power I had felt earlier, I decided to experiment again. I stopped at a quiet spot, knelt, and repeated the prayer I had said before. The moment I finished, the energy surged back into me, flooding my body with a warm, electrifying current.
Grinning, I decided to test my limits. I broke into a run, faster than I ever thought possible. The wind roared past my ears, and the trees blurred into streaks of green and brown. My heart raced, but not with exhaustion—just exhilaration.
On Earth, cardio had never been my strong suit. I’d always avoided it, joking that I wasn’t built for running. But now, I felt unstoppable, like I could run forever. Laughing like a kid, I leapt over roots and streams, reveling in the freedom of movement.
After what felt like hours, I finally stopped. My muscles didn’t ache, and there was no soreness—just the faint hum of residual energy. I found a small creek and stripped down, washing away the grime and sweat from my run. The water was cold and refreshing, and I couldn’t help but notice how my clothes, though dirty, showed no signs of wear. Even my shoes, caked in mud, looked brand new after a quick rinse. “I could’ve used these back home,” I murmured, shaking my head.
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Once clean and dressed, I prayed again to replenish the energy. It returned just as strong, and I decided to push my exploration further. Sitting beneath a tree, I focused inward, trying to understand the strange force coursing through me.
It felt like an extra muscle—something flexible and malleable, waiting to be shaped by my will. I closed my eyes and imagined directing a small amount of energy into my eyes, thinking it might make them glow. Instead, when I opened them, the world had changed.
Wisps of light floated in the air around me, like tiny jellyfish drifting on an unseen current. They shimmered in various colors, their shapes shifting in ways that defied logic. I blinked in awe, my breath catching at the sight. Whispering a prayer in praise of the Creator, I watched as the wisps responded, flocking closer to me. A golden one drifted toward my chest, and when it touched me, a warm surge of energy rippled through my core.
My mind raced with questions. What were these things? Were they part of the environment, or something more? I needed answers, and the only way to find them was through experimentation.
I reached out to a larger, purple wisp, my hand going through the thing, as if I was grasping air. Willing energy into my hand to coat it like a glove. This time, when I grasped the wisp, it felt tangible—cool and viscous, like semi-frozen slime. Slowly, I brought it toward my chest. It resisted at first but then merged into me, spreading warmth and power throughout my body. The increase in energy was noticeable, and a theory began to form in my mind.
Were the colors linked to specific properties or elements? I looked toward the creek, where blue wisps floated in greater concentration. Reaching out, I grabbed one, coating my hand in energy as I had before. This time, I decided to taste it. The wisp felt cool and slimy on my tongue, dissolving into a burst of refreshing energy. “Weird,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I’ll stick with the chest method.”
Laughing at my own absurdity, I stood and resumed walking. The forest was alive with sounds—bird calls that were both familiar and alien, rustling leaves, and the distant trickle of water. My earlier fear had faded, replaced by a sense of calm and purpose. I felt as though I was being guided, my gut urging me forward.
After about an hour, the forest began to change. The trees thinned, and I spotted signs of humanoid activity—footprints in the dirt, a crude spear embedded in the ground, and a faint trail leading deeper into the woods. I followed it cautiously, the feeling of being watched growing stronger with every step.
When I emerged into a clearing, I barely had time to react. A guttural shout rang out, and I found myself surrounded by towering figures with green skin and tusked faces. Orcs. They carried weapons—axes, spears, and bows—and their expressions ranged from suspicion to outright hostility.
One of them, clearly the leader, barked something in a language I didn’t understand. My pendant pulsed, and the words shifted in my mind, becoming clear.
“Who are you, outsider? State your purpose!”
I raised my hands slowly, showing I was unarmed. “I mean no harm,” I said. “I don’t even know where I am.”
The orcs exchanged glances, their grip on their weapons tightening. The leader stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “A likely story. Are you a scout for the humans? Or perhaps the elves?”
“I’m not with anyone,” I replied firmly. “I woke up deep in the forest. Besides, do I look like an elf to you? I was just exploring, petting weird glowing wisps, and trying not to get eaten by a panther-thing. I don’t know your customs or your people, but I’m not your enemy.”
The orcs seemed taken aback by my tone—and my lack of fear. The leader frowned, scrutinizing me for a long moment before lowering his weapon.
“You’re an odd one,” he muttered. “You’ll come with us. If you’re lying, you’ll answer for it.”
I nodded, feeling the same gut instinct urging me to follow them. As they led me toward their encampment, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief. These weren’t monsters—they were people. And something told me their story was one worth learning.