It did not take Thalria long to realize that her suspicions of Jovian were, on the surface, unfounded. He seemed utterly harmless. He walked awkwardly, as if he was a child learning to navigate the world for the first time, each step tentative and uncertain, his balance precarious, as if he were constantly on the verge of tripping. He looked lost, almost fragile, a stark contrast to the dangers of the forest around them.


    As they moved through the dense forest, Thalria’s gaze kept drifting back to him. There was something off about Jovian, something she couldn’t quite place. He didn’t fit the role of a protector—his awkwardness, his unsteady movements—it all felt wrong. She couldn’t figure out why anyone would task him with gathering survivors and protecting them while he led them back to safety.


    She glanced down at Juno, walking a few steps ahead of her, the younger girl’s gaze remained fixed on the ground beneath her feet, as if she was trying to forget everything around her. Thalria didn’t know much about her, she didn’t seem keen on talking about her past life, none of them were—not that she could blame them. A small frown tugged at Thalria’s lips. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Juno was feeling. Were there other children here?


    A sudden stop brought Thalria out of her thoughts, and she nearly collided with Juno as the younger girl stumbled to a halt.


    Thalria exhaled softly, shaking off the thought. This wasn’t time for questions, not when they were still vulnerable. The forest’s black trees loomed around them, thick with the hum of unseen life.


    Jovian, oblivious or indifferent to her scrutiny, stumbled over a root, catching himself just before he could fall flat.


    “Well,” he muttered, “I’d like to say that was on purpose, but even I have my limits.”


    Juno laughed quietly, a short, almost hesitant sound, before quickly stopping it as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to find humor in anything anymore.


    Jovian placed a hand mockingly on his heart. "Ah, so my suffering amuses you, does it?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock sorrow. "The tragedy of it all!"


    Juno laughed again, this time a little louder, her shoulders shaking with the sound. It was quick, a jittery burst of laughter that seemed to echo in the forest.


    Jovian’s eyes brightened, as if he’d won some unspoken victory. His grin widened, though it still hid something elusive—something that didn’t match his carefree humor he tried to project.


    “Oh, come on now, I’m sure the forest would be devastated to lose my presence.” He swayed dramatically, placing one hand over his heart again, the other flailing outward as if he were an actor in some grand performance.


    Juno’s laughter faded, but not entirely. Her lips curled into a shy smile, and Thalria could see the faintest flicker of relief in her eyes.


    ‘Maybe I’m overthinking…’ Thalria thought, but the unease persisted. She glanced at the trees above, trying to steady her thoughts. The dark sun loomed overhead, barely visible between the trees.


    “Thalria.”


    Her thoughts were interrupted by Juno’s voice, barely a whisper, but carrying a note of lightness Thalria hadn’t heard from her before.


    “Hmm?” Thalria acknowledged.


    “Do you ever think…” Juno continued, her voice a little steadier. “Do you think we’ll go back home?”


    Thalria hesitated before answering. That question has been eating at her ever since she arrived in this strange, unwelcoming world. The thought of returning to her old life was a flickering hope, a far-off dream that felt more and more like a distant memory each day.


    The fact that other people had been teleported here was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, in the sense that maybe it would be easier to survive here.


    But it was also a curse, far more weighty than the first. None of those people had made it back. Not one. If they hadn’t made it back, what hope did they have? It was a cold, suffocating truth.


    “The fact that this has been happening for a long time,” Thalria began slowly, her voice heavy, “people being brought here, none of them have ever made it back—it doesn’t feel… welcoming.”


    Juno’s silence spoke volumes, her eyes fixed ahead as though the question itself was too much to bear. The weight of the truth pressing down on both of them.


    “I keep thinking about it,” Thalria continued, her voice growing softer, “and the more I think about it, the more I realize how little we know. Why were we brought here? What—or rather—Where is here? Who else is here? Why has no one ever found a way home?”


    Juno’s grip on her sleeve tightened, her voice barely a whisper when she finally spoke. “So…you think we’re stuck here? Forever?”


    Thalria didn’t have an answer. She wanted to say no, to give Juno hope that they could somehow return to their world. But deep down, she wasn’t sure anymore.


    “I don’t know,” Thalria admitted, her voice small, the uncertainty eating at her insides. “But I do know one thing—we have to keep moving. We can’t stop. If there’s even the smallest chance of finding a way home, we have to keep looking.”


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Juno nodded, her face still shadowed with doubt, but now, a small flicker of resolve in her eyes.


    “Ah!” Jovian froze in his tracks ahead, his body jerking unnervingly. His head swiveled rapidly from side to side.


    Daln’s hand instinctively moved to the knife at his belt, his grip tightening. His posture shifted into something tense. “What now?” he asked, his voice low but sharp.


    Jovian pivoted, his movement jerky, and pointed outwards, his gaze fixed on the dense treeline. “More people,” he said, his voice breathless, almost too quick to be believed.


    Thalria’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing. “You saw them?”


    Jovian didn’t answer. He simply turned, his worn leather chest-plate creaking with the sudden movement, and broke off to the side. “This way, quickly! We need to get to them.”


    Daln’s eyes, sharp and wary, followed the man as he stumbled through the undergrowth, his movements erratic and driven. He reached out to pull Juno back by the shoulder before she could follow. Her face was scrunched in confusion, her eyes flickering between them, unsure of what was happening.


    Daln met Thalria’s gaze. His eyes were sharp. “Trap?”


    Thalria''s eyes flickered to the deepening forest. She wasn’t sure, but something about this felt wrong. "I don''t know," she murmured, unease settling in her gut. "But this... it''s wrong." She turned to look back at Daln’s face. His eyes, narrowed and focused, were scanning the surrounding trees, his expression unreadable.


    “We need to be ready,” Thalria declared, breaking the silence. “Whatever he’s leading us into, we can’t afford to be caught off guard.” She paused, then added. “I’ll go on ahead. You two follow, stay close.”


    Thalria barely had to exert herself to catch up to Jovian. He moved with urgency, his steps clumsy and uneven. His head jerked slightly as he scanned the trees, his gaze darting from tree to tree, searching for something—though for what, she couldn’t tell.


    “Jovian,” she called, her voice low but steady, the command clear. “Slow down. What did you see?”


    He didn’t answer. Instead, his breath hitched as his entire body seemed to freeze. His eyes locked onto something in the darkness ahead. “There! We’ve almost reached them.”


    Before she could say anything, he took off again. Thalria shot a quick look over her shoulder, Daln and Juno weren’t far behind, their expressions tense, their steps cautious. She hesitated for only a moment before pushing forward, trailing Jovian as he tore through the undergrowth.


    Branches clawed at her arms, snapping beneath her boots as she maneuvered through the thick brush. Jovian moved erratically, his pace frantic, as though drawn to something only he could sense.


    The sound of rushing water began to grow louder, faint at first, but louder with each step. She pushed through the thick vegetation, the air growing damp. Suddenly—without warning, the trees parted, and she stumbled into a wide clearing.


    She froze at the edge of the clearing, her heart beating rapidly as she scanned the scene before her. Across the river, a small group of people struggled against the current—two men and a woman, their movements frantic as they attempted to reach her side. The water roared around their legs, dragging at their feet with each step.


    Behind them, another group emerged from the trees—three men and two women. Their postures were tense, their eyes frantic.


    Racing past Jovian, Thalria sprinted to the river’s edge and leaped without hesitation. The roar of the water filled her ears as she soared through the air, her body twisting mid-flight. She landed hard on the other side, knees bending to absorb the impact, her hand brushing the damp earth for balance. Before she had even straightened, her eyes snapped up—ready to face whatever was chasing them.


    Her fingers curled around a rough stone beside her as she straightened, preparing for a fight. But as she took in their faces—wide-eyed and frantic—realization struck.


    They weren’t pursuers. They were fleeing.


    The group''s retreat splashed behind her, but her attention was drawn ahead. A dark shape stirred in the thicket, its silhouette shifting in the gloom. Then, with a sharp crack of branches, it emerged.


    Thalria felt a cold prickle along her neck as the figure, its silhouette eerily humanoid, stepped into the clearing. It was the absence of movement, the unnatural stillness, that screamed of danger, a silent alarm bell ringing in her senses.


    Whatever this thing was—it felt wrong.


    Before she could even draw breath, it moved. A blur of motion, impossibly fast.


    Her fingers tightened around the rock she held, the rough stone molding to her will. She willed it to be sharper, deadlier.


    She threw it, a blur of motion mirroring the creature’s own, with impossible precision and speed.


    Then with no effort—it dodged, a casual sidestep


    The rock sailed past, striking the ground with a thunk, useless. Thalria barely had time to register what happened before the creature closed the distance.


    She twisted away on instinct, feet digging into the earth as she narrowly avoided the swipe of its limb. A splintering crack erupted where she had stood, dirt spraying into the air.


    Her breath came fast and sharp. ‘It’s fast!’


    Thalria’s mind raced. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the others—almost across, Daln pulling them to safety.


    Another lunge. This time, she dropped low, skidding across the ground as its strike whistled just over her head. A second later she would have been split open.


    She hit the ground hard, the impact jolting up her arms as she pushed off, rolling away from the creature’s next strike, the earth shattering where she had been. Thalria barely had time to react before the creature was on her again.


    She twisted mid-roll, planting a hand against the ground and kicking off. Her body pivoted sharply, muscles screaming as she propelled herself backward, barely avoiding another crushing blow.


    The creature loomed before her, its form shifting unnaturally. It was studying her, testing her reactions.


    Thalria’s fingers dug into the earth. ‘I won’t last if I stay on the defensive’


    She surged forward. Feinting left, she spun sharply to the right, her boot skidding against the loose dirt. In a single fluid motion, she scooped up another rock, shaping it in her grasp. This time, she didn’t throw it.


    Instead, she lunged, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The creature reared back, prepared to counter—


    ‘Now!’


    She struck low, slamming the sharpened stone into its side. A dull impact. A shudder ran through her arm, but no give—its skin was like armor.


    Its response was immediate. A limb lashed out, clipping her shoulder and sending her sprawling. She hit the ground hard, pain exploding through her side.


    Distantly, she heard Daln shouting.


    The river rushed behind her.


    And the creature loomed closer.