Aeloria

We had been walking for what felt like two hours. The sun—or what I thought was the sun—had climbed steadily higher, now hanging directly overhead. Its strange, reddish light filtered through the thick canopy of trees, painting everything in hues of orange and gold. The wind stirred the branches high above, carrying the scent of earth and pine. The air was cool but heavy, a quiet reminder that this place was unlike anything I had ever known.

Emery had been quiet for the past thirty minutes. Her small, deliberate steps mirrored her furrowed brow, and she kept her gaze fixed on the forest floor as though lost in thought. Her lips were pressed tightly together, the silence around us amplified by her tension. I wondered if she was thinking about her family—her mom, her dad, her dog. Was she replaying their faces in her mind, wondering if we'd ever see them again?

For me, the silence wasn't comforting. My thoughts spiraled into the practical but no less terrifying: Where are we? How will we survive? Where will we sleep tonight? Where will we find food? Water?

Water had to come first. Survival 101. In my head, the plan was simple: find a stream and follow it. Moving water was our best shot at something clean. Shelter could wait. Even food could wait. But without water? We wouldn't last long.

I glanced at Emery again. Her small shoulders were slumped, her head slightly bowed, her blonde hair swaying with the breeze. She looked so much smaller than she had just a day ago, and not just because of whatever had turned us into children. She looked fragile, like a glass figurine on the verge of shattering. I wanted to say something to break the silence, to bring her back from wherever her mind had taken her. But before I could, she stopped abruptly and turned to face me.

"Logan… something's happened to us," she said, her voice soft but steady. "We're not on Earth anymore."

Her words hit like a slap. I froze, staring at her as though waiting for her to take them back. But she didn't. She pressed on, her voice growing firmer as though speaking the truth aloud made it easier to accept.

"That's not the sun," she continued, pointing up through the canopy at the massive orange-red star dominating the sky. "It's too big, too cool… and way too bright. It's a different star. Which means…" Her voice faltered, but she forced herself to continue. "We're never going to see our families again. My mom, my dad, my dog—" Her voice cracked. "Our friends, our lives. They're gone."

Her words hung in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. I opened my mouth to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the lump in my throat stopped me. I could see it in her eyes—she believed every word she was saying. And part of me did too.

"You don't know that, Emery," I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. "If something brought us here, then there has to be a way back. I'll find it. I promise—I'll get you home to your family."

She stared at me, her piercing blue eyes searching for something—hope, reassurance, anything. But we both knew I was lying. And yet, sometimes a lie was all you had.

Without a word, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me. Her small frame trembled against mine, her cheek pressed to my chest. I felt a knot tighten in my throat as I lowered my head and kissed her forehead.

"You're not alone," I whispered. "It's me and you against this new world."

I barely had time to pull back before a chill ran down my spine, sharp and instinctive. My body moved before my mind caught up. I shoved Emery aside with one arm, taking an explosive step backward just as a spear sliced through the air between us. The blade nicked the tip of my nose, leaving a thin line of blood that dripped onto my lips.

"Logan!" Emery's scream was high-pitched, piercing the eerie quiet of the forest.

I spun toward the source of the attack and froze. Standing a few feet away was a creature straight out of a nightmare.

It stood around four feet tall, its sickly green skin stretched taut over wiry muscles that flexed with every movement. Its yellow, snake-like eyes glared at me with terrifying intensity, unblinking and filled with malice. Its grotesque face was covered in bumps and warts, the gnarled flesh twisting into a permanent snarl. In one clawed hand, it gripped a spear made of wood and stone, the jagged blade tied to the shaft with crude twine. At its waist hung a knife, similarly crude but no less threatening.

The creature let out a guttural snarl, its yellow eyes flicking briefly toward Emery. It didn't think. Neither did I.

I lunged forward, closing the distance in a few quick strides. The creature reacted instantly, thrusting the spear toward my head. I fainted right, then dipped sharply left, the weapon whistling past my ear. As I entered its range, I dropped low and drove forward, hitting a blast double-leg takedown that sent us both crashing to the forest floor.

The spear flew from its grip as we landed. I scrambled to pass its legs, climbing into full mount. Its claws lashed out wildly, aiming for my face, but I trapped its wrists and pinned them to the dirt. My heart pounded as I reached for the knife strapped to its waist, my fingers brushing the handle.

The creature bucked violently, kicking me with enough force to send me rolling backward. Pain shot through my ribs as I hit the ground, but I kept my grip on the knife, refusing to let it slip from my hand.

I scrambled to my feet just as the creature did the same.

It screeched a war cry and charged at me, its claws bared. I shifted into an orthodox stance, the knife steady in my right hand. As it closed the distance, I snapped out a teep kick with my left leg, driving it back a step. I followed up with a stiff jab to its face, green blood spraying as the blow landed square on its grotesque nose.

I aimed a quick stab at its chest, but it sidestepped, slashing at me with its claws. I raised my guard, rolling with the impact to minimize the damage. Then, with a feint and a sudden level change, I surged forward into another double-leg takedown.

This time, as we hit the ground, I drove the knife into its abdomen. The creature let out a guttural howl, thrashing beneath me as green blood sprayed across my arms and chest.

I crawled up its body, pinning one arm while keeping the other out of reach. Its snarls turned to gurgles as I plunged the knife into its neck. The light in its yellow eyes faded as it made one last, desperate gasp before going still.

I rolled off the creature, my chest heaving as the adrenaline began to fade. My hands trembled, my arms slick with sweat and blood. For a moment, I just lay there, staring up at the strange, alien sky.

Emery rushed to my side, her voice trembling. "Logan! Are you okay? Let me see!"

She crouched beside me, her hands brushing over my arms, my face, searching for injuries. Her fingers hovered near the cut on my nose, her blue eyes wide with concern.

"You're bleeding," she said softly.

"It's nothing," I muttered. "Just a scratch."

Her hands moved to my shoulders, lightly brushing the green blood smeared across my tunic. "You're covered in this stuff," she said, her voice wavering. "Logan… I thought you were—"

"I'm fine," I cut her off, my voice firm. "I'm here."

Her gaze shifted to the creature's lifeless body, and she shuddered. "What *is* that?"

I turned my head toward it, my chest tightening. Its grotesque features seemed even more unreal in death. "It looks like a goblin," I said quietly. "Like something out of a fairy tale. But it's real."

I crouched beside it, inspecting its weapons. The spear and knife were primitive, made of wood and stone held together with crude twine. They were crude, but sharp—and deadly. I tightened my grip on the spear as I stood.

As I stared down at the creature, a wave of realization hit me. I had let my guard down. I'd been so focused on comforting Emery, on trying to give her hope, that I'd forgotten where we were. My mistake had nearly gotten us both killed.

That couldn't happen again.

From now on, my eyes would stay on the trees, the shadows, the paths ahead and behind. No moment of peace, no lapse in awareness. My head had to stay on a swivel. If I wanted to protect Emery—and myself—I couldn't afford another mistake.