“These dreams I’m having. I don’t know what to make of them. It’s always the same place, but something is always different. Sometimes I can talk…but this last one… I feel like I lost control. But now I’m starting to see…ugh…I don’t know what I’m seeing. I think I’m…I’m starting to forget. And that’s something I’m not sure I can live with.”

  Ariel stood frozen, staring at the unnatural gap in the trees. The air still hummed faintly, as though the world hadn’t quite finished rearranging itself. It pressed against her skin like static, prickling along her arms and raising the fine hairs at the nape of her neck.

  She let out a shaky laugh, thin and unsteady. “No. No, that didn’t just… trees don’t move. Flowers don’t—don’t breathe.” Her hands fluttered uselessly at her sides. “I hit my head. That’s it. I hit my head, and this is all just…” Her voice trailed off because even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. The lie dissolved on her tongue.

  The path waited, dark and quiet, as if it had always been there. Its presence unnerved her—it felt too natural, too perfectly formed, the way a scar blends into skin after years of healing.

  She rubbed her arms, satin rustling faintly against her skin. “Right. Okay. A forest that makes doorways. Sure.” Her lips pressed tight, but the sarcasm felt hollow. The silence that followed seemed to deepen, heavy enough to smother the sound of her own breathing.

  She took a half-step forward, then stopped, heart pounding against her ribs like it wanted out. The ground looked the same as the rest of the glade—earth, moss, scattered leaves—but she still hesitated, as if it might bite. Her mind conjured images of teeth opening beneath the soil, waiting for her weight.

  “Just… one step,” she muttered. “That’s all. One step, and if it kills me, well…” She swallowed hard. “It’s not like I’ve got any other options.”

  Her foot stretched out, toes brushing the packed earth of the path. Slowly, cautiously, she set her weight down.

  Nothing. No thunder. No tremor. No surge of light. Just the crunch of leaves beneath her heel.

  She stood there for a long moment, eyes darting to the trees, the sky, the flower behind her—anywhere she might find an explanation. None came. Only the stillness, pressing in closer the longer she lingered.

  Her shoulders sagged. “Great. Fantastic. Guess I’m doing this.”

  She drew in a breath, squared herself as best as she could, and took another step. Then another. The path stretched on, curving gently between the trunks, and she followed, each movement slow and deliberate, as if the forest might change its mind at any second.

  The path wound forward, narrow and soft underfoot. Each step pressed into damp earth, the scent of moss and flowers rising with every movement. Ariel hugged her arms across her chest as she walked, her eyes darting left and right, desperate to catch movement before it caught her.

  The forest was impossibly lush. Leaves gleamed with colors she couldn’t name—greens so deep they edged into blue, blossoms painted in impossible shades of gold and crimson. Vines dangled from the canopy, their buds faintly glowing like lanterns strung between the branches. Shafts of light filtered down in strange hues, dappling the ground in restless color.

  Her breath hitched. “This… isn’t real. It can’t be. Forests don’t look like this. Not this...saturated with color. I would’ve seen this somewhere before...right?” She let out a nervous huff. “Or maybe I’m just losing my mind.”

  A sound cut across her rambling—a guttural rumble, low and sharp, somewhere between a growl and a call. Ariel froze, eyes wide.

  Her breath caught, chest rising shallow. The trees leaned closer, every leaf holding still. Even the air thickened around her, heavy with the absence of birdsong.

  But nothing emerged.

  She forced her legs to move again, though slower now, cautious. “What the hell was that? That’s not a bird. Not anything I’ve heard before.” Her voice cracked in the silence.

  Another call answered from deeper in the trees—higher this time, almost trilling, followed by the shake of branches. Ariel quickened her pace without meaning to, bare feet slapping against the damp earth.

  “Okay,” she muttered, “so there’s… things out there. That’s fine. Totally normal. Drop into a—what, enchanted jungle?—and immediately get stalked by whatever-the-hell-that-was.”

  She glanced upward. The canopy arched so high it looked like the ceiling of a cathedral, sunlight breaking into fractured beams. Strange fruit hung in clusters—long, glowing faintly, swaying gently as if breathing.

  Her stomach turned. “Those don’t look appetizing. Probably poisonous anyway. That'd be a way to go—land in fairyland, die eating the wrong snack.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  A birdlike cry shattered the air above her—sharp, echoing. She yelped, ducking instinctively, arms thrown over her head. When nothing fell, she peeked upward. Just branches swaying.

  “I don’t like this. No idea what’s screaming at me. Don't like this one bit...”

  Her words filled the silence, but her heart still beat too fast. Calls came from everywhere—clicks, hoots, growls—never close, never visible. The emptiness of the path made it worse, as though the entire forest watched her but refused to step into sight.

  The path curved deeper into the vibrant green, and she followed, muttering under her breath with each careful step. “I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what’s out here. I don't know who I am...I don’t know if I’m even—” She cut herself off, jaw tightening. “Don’t think about that. Just… keep moving. One foot, then the other. That’s all you’ve got.”

  But the further she walked, the more the forest changed. The brilliance dulled. Leaves lost their luster, colors bleeding into gray. Blossoms wilted, petals curling as though crushed by unseen hands. The air soured, perfume fading to something stagnant, like water left too long in a vase. Even the sound drained away—birds gone, insects silent. The bark beneath her fingertips flaked away, brittle and tired, as if the trees themselves had grown weary.

  Ariel slowed, her brow furrowing. “Am I… imagining this? It was bright. I know it was bright. Now it’s just…” She trailed off, scanning the trees as though they might answer. “It’s like the forest is… dying.”

  Her footsteps faltered. Every few paces she glanced back, hoping the vibrance would return once she left it behind. But no—the hush followed, pressing heavier with each step.

  At last the path widened and ended abruptly. Ariel froze. Before her stretched a great chasm, vast and bottomless. She edged closer, peering down—and her stomach dropped. No earth. No stone. Only roiling clouds far below, thick and endless, obscuring everything beneath.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears. “This isn’t… this can’t be…”

  She forced her gaze outward. Across the gulf floated islands, suspended in the air like fragments of a shattered world. Four in all, each distinct: one capped in ice, glittering cruelly; one aflame with molten rivers, its glow staining the clouds red; one an endless ocean, waves rising and falling against invisible shores; and one of pale sand, dunes whipped into storms by unseen winds.

  Wind lashed at her face, sharp with ozone and the damp sting of cloud-mist. It tugged at her dress and hair, threatening to pull her over the edge. Her stomach lurched with vertigo, knees weakening as awe tangled with terror. She hugged herself tighter, trying to anchor her body as her eyes locked on the floating isles.

  Her mouth went dry. “H-How...how did I get here? What the actual hell is—”

  Before she could finish that thought, a rustle snapped from the underbrush. Ariel whipped her head toward it, breath catching as the branches trembled.

  A creature burst out with a violent snort. It looked like a boar, but it was massive—its hide dark and bristled; its eyes pits of black. It pawed at the earth, tusks glinting, gaze fixed on her.

  Ariel went pale. Her body seized with fear. She knew she couldn’t outrun it—her size and the sheer bulk of the creature made escape impossible. Her mind raced: cliff to the left, too steep; trees too thick to squeeze through; no rocks, no sticks, nothing to defend herself with. Just her bare hands, and a monster with knives for teeth.

  I can’t beat that. I can’t outrun it. What the hell do I do?

  She swallowed hard, inching backward, keeping her eyes on it. The beast snorted, slamming a hoof into the ground, its rage mounting. Every slam reverberated in her chest like a drumbeat, shaking her bones. Her breath shook.

  If I turn, it’ll run me down. If I freeze, it’ll gore me. Either way I’m done.

  Her breath quickened. She tried to move faster, feet slipping. Her mind screamed calculations she couldn’t act on: ten steps back to the drop, three heartbeats until it reached her, no weapons, no help. “Shit. Shit, shit—”

  The boar bellowed and launched forward. Terror jolted through her, a flood of adrenaline that burned cold in her veins. “Shit!” she screamed aloud.

  Before it struck, though, a vine whipped from the trees, coiling her wrist. With shocking force it yanked her sideways. Ariel shrieked as she was flung through the air, crashing into the ground and rolling until pain lit every nerve.

  She groaned, lifting her head. “What the hell…?”

  The boar wheeled, fury redoubled. Ariel scrambled up, terror still clouding her thoughts. She barely steadied before it charged again.

  Not again, not again. Please…

  She braced—

  —but another vine whipped out, slamming into its flank. The beast staggered, squealing in rage.

  Ariel spun, searching for the source. Only trees. Why are they helping me? What is happening?

  The boar shook itself, reoriented, and thundered at her again. This time too fast. It crashed into her side, blasting air from her lungs, hurling her backward. Pain exploded through her body.

  Before she struck the ground, vines erupted, weaving into a springy mat. She hit it, bounced and rolled onto her back. Dazed, she lifted her head as the boar lowered its tusks once more.

  Ariel flung out her hand in a desperate plea. “Stop! Please!”

  The forest answered. Vines burst upward out of the ground, twisting around the beast’s legs, torso, and neck. It squealed and thrashed, snapping branches, tearing soil, but the bonds only tightened. Ariel stared, wide-eyed, disbelieving, as the living cords constricted.

  What’s happening? How is this possible?

  Tighter. Tighter. Until the boar could no longer breathe. Its struggles weakened... ceased... and with a final shudder, it toppled lifeless.

  Ariel collapsed back onto the mat of vines, chest heaving. Her vision blurred, exhaustion dragging her under. She barely saw the vines sink back into the earth or the body of the boar lying still. Her eyes shut, and darkness claimed her.