The new world

But as the world stopped spinning, I realized it wasn't the same at all. The light was different, golden and vibrant. The sun had woken up somewhere behind the canopy, its rays piercing through a sea of emerald leaves that danced rhythmically in a light breeze. Everything was green. Impossibly, vibrantly green. The foliage was so thick I could barely catch a glimpse of the sky, and the colours were so saturated they made my eyes ache. Movement caught my attention. High above, a pair of squirrels leaped between branches, but as they stopped to look down at me, I realized they were anything but ordinary. They had the bushy tails, sure, but their front teeth were unnaturally long, almost like tiny tusks and their ears were curled into tight spirals, like a pig’s tail. "Hey there," I called up, not actually expecting a peep out of them. "Do you know where I am?"

"In the forest, can't you see?" one of the creatures snapped back in a voice that was simultaneously deep and piercingly squeaky. "Good God," I muttered, stumbling backward over my own feet in shock. They vanished into the leaves before I could even blink.

"Oh, there you are," a raspy, wavering voice called out. I spun around toward the sound.

Shuffling down the dirt path where I’d landed was an old, stooped woman. She looked like she had grown out of the earth itself. Her hair was long, thin, and the colour of tarnished silver, drifting around her face like cobwebs. Despite her weathered skin, her eyes were startlingly kind, glowing with a soft, knowing light. She leaned heavily on a walking stick that looked like a branch she’d simply picked up off the forest floor, and she wore a tattered, layered dress of moss-coloured linen and rough-spun wool, cinched at the waist with a braided vine. "It took you long enough," she said, her tone more observant than impatient. "Follow me, sweetie." She didn't wait for an answer.

She shuffled past me, her cane thumping softly against the earth as she headed further down the path. I scrambled to my feet, threw my bag over my shoulder, and ran after her. Whatever this was, whatever world I had just crashed into, it certainly wasn't the boring town anymore.

The old woman led me deeper into the emerald heart of the forest until a small cottage materialized from the shadows. It was so perfectly camouflaged that you would have walked right past it if you weren't looking for it. The dwelling was literally built into the earth itself. Thick layers of damp soil formed the walls, and a heavy carpet of vibrant green moss served as the roof, making the structure look like a natural hill that had decided to grow a door.

Before we stepped inside, she caught my arm with a grip like iron. "You aren't coming in like that, sweetie," she said, her voice dancing with amusement as she began swatting the dirt off my backside with her free hand. Satisfied, she ushered me inside. The interior was a cramped, chaotic sanctuary of ancient smells. A massive iron cauldron hung over a crackling open flame, its contents bubbling and sending plumes of savoury steam into the rafters. Every inch of wall space was occupied by sagging wooden shelves, groaning under the weight of hundreds of glass bottles, some filled with glowing liquids, others with dried roots, and leather-bound books of every conceivable size. She gestured toward a small, rustic wooden table with two mismatched chairs. I went to pull one out but stopped short. A large hedgehog was curled up on the seat, snoring softly. I looked at the old woman, but she was busy ladling the bubbling liquid into a wooden bowl. Left with no choice, I tucked the chair back in and simply crouched by the table, resting my hands on the scarred wood for support.

"There now," she said, sliding the steaming bowl toward me. She sat down opposite the hedgehog and just stared at me, her kind eyes unblinking. The silence was deafening.

To break the tension, I asked, "You were expecting me?"

"I knew you were coming," she said simply, nudging the bowl an inch closer. "How?" She scoffed,

 a sharp sound that suggested my questions were a chore. Reaching into the folds of her mossy dress, she pulled out a small leather pouch tied with a peculiar cord. She tossed it onto the table.

It landed with a heavy, metallic clink. I picked it up, my fingers brushing the drawstring.

I recoiled slightly when I realized the cord wasn't rope or leather, it was a lock of the old woman’s own silver hair, braided into a tight, shimmering twine. Inside the pouch were gold coins and small, rectangular slips of pink paper. On the paper was a portrait of a woman, young, breathtakingly beautiful, with a delicate crown resting atop her long, straight hair. Because of the paper’s tint,

the woman herself seemed to glow in shades of rose. The coins, however, were unlike anything I’d ever seen. They weren't round; they were almond-shaped, like a cat's eye, embossed with two crescent moons facing away from each other. I looked at her, my brow furrowed. "Dasus," she said, pointing a gnarled finger at the pouch. "Your so-called money. Dasus." She leaned back, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You are what we call a New-Worlder. It has been decades since a fresh soul arrived, but you aren't the first. I am a Harbinger. I see, and sometimes, I help. Today, I chose to help." She pushed the bowl again. "Drink. You must be famished." I peered into the liquid. It was a clear, golden-brown broth that smelled heavenly, like slow-roasted meat and wild herbs.  "What is it?"

"Soup!" she snapped. The hunger won out. I lifted the bowl to my lips and took several deep,

greedy gulps. It was delicious, warming me from the inside out. When I set the bowl down, I found her leaning forward, her chin resting on her hands, watching me with a strange, expectant intensity.

 "So, what happens now?" I asked. She didn't answer. She just stared.

"Where am I supposed to go?" I tried again, my voice rising. "In a moment... now?" she whispered, phrasing it like a question to the air. "Yes, please, now," I replied, my irritation finally flaring. Suddenly, a pain as sharp as a serrated knife plunged into my gut. It wasn't just a cramp.

It was a white-hot agony that radiated through my entire torso. I gasped, my chair or rather,

my crouched position, failing me as I collapsed backward. I hit the dirt floor, clutching my midsection, my body twisting in a desperate, silent scream as the world began to blur.