Through The Shifting Trees

I hate crowds. I tugged at the hem of my sweater, trying to shake the unease that prickled at my skin. Philadelphia was always busy, but tonight felt suffocating—too many people, too much noise, too little space to breathe. The carnival on the edge of the city was supposed to be fun, a distraction from the lonely monotony of my life, but as I wove through the sea of bodies, I regretted coming. The flashing lights, the greasy scent of fried food, the distant shriek of laughter—it all felt distant, like I was walking through a world that wasn't mine. I hugged my arms around myself, wondering why I had let my coworker, Tasha, convince me to come. Her words from earlier rung in my ears. "You never do anything, Eloise," Tasha had teased that morning, stirring her coffee with unnecessary force. "You live in that little trailer with your plants, and you only leave to go to work. It's sad." I had rolled my eyes, but deep down, I knew Tasha wasn't wrong. My life was predictable, quiet. Maybe even a little pathetic. I liked it that way. It felt safe. I spent the first half of my life feeling anything but that. Thats also why I had forced myself out tonight, to feel a little of that normalcy everyone was always telling me I needed, but now I wanted nothing more than to turn around and go home. I pulled out my phone, debating on texting Tasha some lame excuse, when something caught my eye—a photo booth tucked between a popcorn stand and a row of game stalls. It was old-fashioned, the kind you didn't see much anymore, its deep red curtain swaying slightly in the breeze. The words CAPTURE A MOMENT were printed in peeling gold letters above the entrance. I hesitated. There was something oddly out of place about it. Unlike the garish neon of the carnival, the booth looked almost... vintage, untouched by time. It held its own essence. I liked it. I had a habit of collecting old novelties. Without thinking, I stepped toward it, moving forward before I talked myself out of it and ran home to my plants. The carnival faded behind me as I slipped inside, pulling the curtain closed. The air inside was cooler, quieter. A small stool sat in front of the screen, and a row of faded buttons lined the side of the booth. Most were illegible, the ink long since rubbed away, but one word stood out. BEGIN. I sat down and pressed it. The screen flickered to life, but instead of my reflection, the image that appeared was... wrong. What an odd filter I thought. It was me, but the background wasn't the inside of the booth. It was a dense, dark forest, mist curling around trees with bark as white as bone. The air in the image seemed heavy, thick with something ancient. My breath caught. I pulled the curtain back expecting to see the carnival outside. But when I pulled it back— Everything was gone. The fairgrounds, the flashing lights, the smell of fried food—all of it had vanished. Instead, I was sitting in the middle of the same eerie forest from the screen. A sharp panic clawed its way up my throat. I scrambled off the stool, my heart hammering. The trees around me loomed tall, stretching endlessly into the distance, their gnarled branches tangled like reaching fingers. The ground beneath me was damp and covered in moss, the scent of earth and rain replacing the artificial carnival air. This wasn't possible. This couldn't be real. I stumbled forward, my breathing ragged. Maybe I had fallen asleep? Maybe I had hit my head? Some kind of nervous breakdown from the carnival commotion must have sent me into some diluted dissociation. I reached out, pressing my palm against the nearest tree— Solid. Cold. Real. My stomach lurched. No way. Something rustled in the distance. I froze. The sound was soft, almost imperceptible, but it sent ice through my veins. I wasn't alone. Slowly, I turned towards the sound. A figure stood at the edge of the mist. At first, I thought it was just another tree, but then it moved. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Something glinted in the dim light—a weapon strapped to his back. More panic surged through my veins. My adrenaline tenfold. "Hello?" I called, my voice came out shaky, uncertain. Was it stupid to speak? The figure didn't reply. Instead, it stepped forward. The mist curled around him, revealing more details—long black hair that fell over his chest, a streak of white framed his face, his skin somewhere between green and blue, and eyes as sharp as a blade. He was dressed in dark leathers, worn and weathered, like he had seen more battles than she could count. His expression was unreadable as he came closer. I took a step back. He took another step forward. "Where am I?" I demanded, trying to keep the fear from my voice. "Who are you?" I'm going to piss my pants. Still, he didn't answer. His gaze swept over me, assessing, calculating. Then, before I could react, he moved quickly. In a blink, he was in front of me, faster than anything humanly possible. I barely had time to gasp before rough fingers closed around my wrist. "You're not supposed to be here." His voice was low, edged with something dangerous. He looked around. Was he expecting someone? I tried to jerk away, but his grip was iron. "Let me go!" I screamed, heart pounding. Instead of releasing me, he exhaled sharply, like my fear I was an inconvenience to him. His gaze flickered to the trees, scanning the forest around them. "We need to move." I dug my heels into the mossy ground. "I'm not going anywhere with you." Something dark flashed in his eyes. "Fine," he muttered. And then— He lifted me off the ground. A shocked scream ripped from my throat as he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. "Put me down, you troll—!" "Be thankful i'm not what you speak. Be quiet." He hissed, "Unless you want to get both of us killed." I stilled, my insults halted in my throat. The way he said it—flat, matter-of-fact—sent a chill through me. I opened my mouth to argue, but then I heard it. Distant voices and something not human. Not entirely. Low, guttural murmurs, moving through the trees like hunting dogs on a scent. My stomach dropped. My captor's grip tightened and he cursed. "Too late," he muttered. And then he ran. The world blurred around me. I barely had time to react before the stranger took off, his long strides impossibly fast, his grip firm as he carried me through the forest.The mist clung to my skin like cold breath, the trees stretching taller, shifting like silent watchers in the dark. Every crunch of his footsteps sent my pulse hammering—every rustle behind us made my stomach twist tighter. Were they getting closer? Or was that just my fear?” "Put me down!" I shouted, squirming, but he didn't slow. "Be still," he snapped. "Unless you want them to hear you." My breath hitched once more. Them. The voices behind us grew clearer—low, inhuman, snarling. Whatever they were they were getting closer. I twisted my head, trying to see, but all I caught were shifting shadows between the trees. Shapes moving fast, too fast. If my anxiety could get any bigger it broke barriers. "What—what are they?" I gasped. My captor didn't answer. Instead, he moved faster, if that were even possible. Leaping over fallen logs and ducking under low-hanging branches with a grace that shouldn't have been feasible with another person thrown over his shoulder. He was easily 8 feet of pure muscle so I can't be too surprised. My pulse raced. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. I had been at a carnival. A normal, ordinary carnival. And now— Now I was running for my life on the back of a man who looked like he belonged in some dark fairytale. A sharp whistle cut through the air. My captor cursed under his breath. "What was that?" I whispered, my heart hammering. "They've spotted us." "Who the hell is they" I cried out. Before I got my answer, he swerved, changing direction. The movement was so sudden that I almost slipped from his grip, my stomach lurching as the ground tilted beneath me. I have to throw up. Something whizzed past my ear—an arrow. I brought my hand up and looked at the warm liquid. Blood. It clipped me. I think I'm going to hyperventilate, I clutched the stranger's back instinctively praying to every god I didn't believe in. Another arrow flew, barely missing his leg. He growled, muscles tensing beneath me. "Hold on." he said as if I had a choice. And then—he jumped. I had no time to scream before we were airborne, sailing over a ravine I hadn't even noticed. The drop below was impossibly deep, jagged rocks glistening in the moonlight. My stomach plummeted. Then—impact. We landed hard on the other side, the force jolting through my body. He stumbled slightly but didn't fall. Instead, he straightened, adjusting his grip on me, and kept running. My mind reeled. He had jumped a ravine. A ravine. Who—or what—was he? The voices behind us grew fainter, but they didn't stop. He pushed forward, never pausing, never hesitating, until at last, the sounds of pursuit vanished into the night. Only then did he slow. My breath was ragged, chest tight as I tried to process what had just happened. When he finally stopped the forest around us was eerily silent, the only sound was our uneven breathing. And then—finally—he set me down. My legs buckled and I hit the ground hard, my hands scraping against damp earth. The world spun around me, my heart still racing in my chest. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. I just stared at the sky. There's two moons peaking behind the trees that seem to go on forever. "What," I gasped, looking up at him, "the hell was that?" My captor exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark, sweat-dampened hair. He didn't answer. Up close, he was even more unnerving—sharp features, piercing dark eyes, skin that glowed faintly under the moonlight. Ridiculously hot but that probably wasn't an appropriate thing to focus on right now. Something about him felt otherworldly. Because he was. "Where—where am I?" He studied me for a long moment before answering. "Drysten." He stated. The name didn't tell me anything. "I don't—" I shook my head, still breathless. "I don't know what that means." He huffed, like it was an inconvenience for me to ask. Seems like we’re making it a habit. "It means you're in the wrong place." "No kidding," I snapped, pushing myself up. "One minute I was at a carnival, and now I'm in a forest with things trying to kill me. What the hell is happening?" His gaze darkened. "You're not supposed to be here." "You just said that. No shit." His English had a thick, unrecognizable accent. Silence stretched between us, heavy and tense. Then, he turned away. "We need to keep moving." I gawked at him. "Excuse me?" "You're dangerous to have here," he said lowly over his shoulder. "And if those scouts and their...pets, report what they saw, there'll be more coming. We need to leave." I scowled. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He stopped. Turned back. And then—he laughed. The sound was low, bitter. "You think you have a choice?" My stomach twisted. "You have no idea where you are. No idea what hunts these woods." His gaze locked onto mine, unyielding. "You wouldn't last an hour on your own." My fists clenched. I hated that he was right. Hated that I needed him despite the fear of where he might be taking me. But I also wasn't about to just trust him. "Who are you? What's your name?" I asked finally. His jaw tensed. For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to answer. "Cedar." The name didn't mean anything to me, but the way he said it—clipped, impatient—made it clear he didn't care to elaborate. I took a deep breath fighting with my hair. "Okay, Cedar." I crossed her arms, trying to ignore how shaky I still felt. "What now?" He studied me for a moment longer before sighing. "Now?" His eyes flickered toward the trees. "Now we get out of here before you get us both killed." And with that, he turned and started walking. I hesitated. I need to get home. Could I even get home? I'm clearly not on earth anymore. For a brief, stupid moment, I considered running in the opposite direction. But then I remembered the voices. The shadows in the trees. The arrows that had nearly killed me. The pets he spoke of. My stomach turned. I let out a frustrated breath, then—grudgingly—followed him into the dark. The night felt thicker now, the air heavy with an eerie stillness that wrapped around us like a vice. I followed Cedar through the tangled undergrowth, my limbs aching, my mind racing. The forest loomed taller here, the trees impossibly vast, their trunks gnarled and ancient. The only sounds were the quiet crunch of our footsteps and the occasional rustling of unseen creatures in the darkness. I didn't know how long we had been walking. Hours? It all blurred together. Tears fell silently down my face as I thought of my home. My breathing was ragged, and every time I glanced over my shoulder, I expected to see those things coming after us. The ones I hadn't seen clearly but felt—felt in the marrow of my bones, in the way my instincts screamed at me to run. A tremor ran through me thinking about the arrows flying past us. If Cedar hadn't moved when he did—if he hadn't jumped—I would be dead. I swallowed hard. "What were they?" I asked finally, my voice raw. Cedar didn't slow. "Scouts," he grumbled. "Tracking us." I frowned. "Scouts for who?" He let out a breath through his nose. "You ask a lot of questions." I scowled. "It's been hours, asshole, I was kidnapped from my world and dropped into a nightmare forest where things are trying to kill me. So forgive me for wanting a little clarity." That earned me a glance. His eyes were sharp, assessing. Then he looked away. "You're from Earth." It wasn't a question. My pulse stuttered. "You—you know about Earth? Can you get me home?" He didn't answer. Before I could push him further, Cedar froze. His hand shot up—a silent command for me to stop. I halted, my heart hammering. I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but then— Heavy steps crunched from the distance. Something was out there. Something big. Cedar moved before I could even process what was happening. He stepped in front of me, shoulders squared, muscles tight. And then—a growl. Low. Deep. God I hope it's not hungry. My breath hitched. A massive shadow shifted between the trees. Then another. Two of them. The shapes emerged into the moonlight, and my stomach fell. Ogres. They were huge—at least nine feet tall, their bodies thick with muscle and leathery, grayish skin. Their faces were twisted, almost human but not quite—too broad, too monstrous, with jagged teeth protruding from their lower jaws. One of them sniffed the air, nostrils flaring. I felt sick. The second ogre grinned—a horrible, sharp thing. Predatory. "Elf," one rumbled. Its voice was like grinding stone. "Not quite, he smells like an elf but look at him," said the other. "And... a human female?" It finished. They looked between each other grinning. The first one laughed, the sound wet and awful. "It's always men. How unheard of." It spoke slowly. "Imagine the reward" the other replied. Cedar tensed shifting his weight. The ogres were looking at me. My body locked up. Panic surged in my chest, sharp and paralyzing. I needed to run. I needed to run! But my feet wouldn't move. Why can't I move? The second ogre took a step forward. Cedar moved faster. In one smooth motion, he reached over his shoulder, drawing a wicked, curved blade. One ogre lunged. Cedar met it mid-strike. The impact was violent. Cedar ducked low, using the creature's momentum against it, slashing up with brutal precision. The blade sank deep into its stomach, carving through flesh like paper. The ogre let out a horrible, gurgling shriek. Blood sprayed across the forest floor its insides spilling out. I screamed as the hot liquid splashed across my legs and feet. I stumbled back, hands clamping over my mouth. My vision blurred. My heart slammed against my ribs. I had never seen anything like this. Never seen a man kill something. And Cedar—Cedar didn't hesitate. But he wasn't just a man. He tore the blade free, and the ogre collapsed. Dead. The other one roared in fury, swinging a massive arm. Cedar dodged. Barely. The force of the strike shattered a nearby tree, sending splinters flying. I gasped, covering my face stumbling back farther. The ogre was fast. Faster than something that size should be. But Cedar was agile. He twisted around its next attack, scaling the creature's back like it was second nature. His blade flashed—**once, twice—**and suddenly the ogre screamed, its Achilles tendons severed. It collapsed to its knees, shaking the ground. Cedar didn't give it a chance to recover. With a swift, brutal strike, he drove his sword deep into the ogre's skull. Silence. The body swayed. Then—it fell. My breath hitched. My body wouldn't stop shaking. There was blood—so much blood. With blurry vision I backed away. Trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to break out. This wasn't real. It couldn't be real. None of this was. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to wake up—to snap out of whatever horrible nightmare this was. But when I opened them... The bodies were still there. Cedar was still there. And he was watching me. My breath came in ragged gasps. "Y-you—" I couldn't even form words. My stomach twisted, and suddenly I was bent over, heaving. Cedar exhaled sharply. He didn't say anything at first. Just cleaned his blade with practiced efficiency before sheathing it again. "Are you finished?" He asked almost annoyed. I flinched. My body was still trembling. My chest hurts. My hands felt numb. I had just watched him kill something that looked like it walked out of a fantasy horror movie. He killed them like it was nothing. I shook my head. "I—I don't—" Cedar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't have time for this." My rage snapped through the panic. I glared at him narrowing my eyes. "You don't have time for this?" My voice cracked. "I just—" I gestured wildly at the bodies. "I just saw you murder two... things!" Cedar raised a brow. "They weren't things. They were ogres." "That is not the point!" He let out an exhausted breath. "You're still alive because of me. They would eat us. Or worse." My throat tightened. I knew that. But it didn't make it any easier. Didn't make the fear go away. Cedar watched me for a long moment. Then, to my complete shock, he crouched beside me. His voice was quieter when he spoke. "You're in Drysten now. If you want to survive, you need to understand one thing." I met his gaze. His eyes—so sharp, no emotion behind them—held me in place. "There's no such thing as mercy here. You aren't home. It you. Or them. Pick you." I shivered. He was right I wasn't home. He pulled away and leaned against a tree. The bodies of the ogres lay still, their massive forms broken and bloodied against the forest floor. The stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating. I couldn't tear my gaze away. The raw brutality of it—of how quickly Cedar had cut them down—was seared into my mind. I was still shaking, breaths uneven when I got up. My eyes shifted the forest. I need to get out of here. Away from him. Like he read my mind he said "Don't run. The forest won't let you." Ignoring Cedar's warning, I tried anyway. I sprint through the trees, but the deeper I go, the more the forest twists around me. The trees shift, paths disappear, and no matter which way I run, It leads me right back with him. Cedar doesn't even look surprised when I stumble back into the clearing, panting and confused. "Stop wasting time. Let's go." He mutters. Furious, I demanded answers. "What the hell is going on?" I yell. Cedar remains tight-lipped just staring at me which only makes me more mad. He walked over and stood beside me, unbothered, his expression unreadable as he cleaned his blade against the fabric of his tunic before sheathing it at his back. He moved with the kind of efficiency that told me all this was normal for him. Would this be my new normal? The realization sent a cold wave of dread through me. I was alone in a strange world, in the company of a man who killed without hesitation. A man who had kidnapped me. And yet, as terrifying as he was, as ruthless as he had proven to be... He had saved me. Twice. I hugged my arms to my chest, willing myself to breathe, to pull myself together. This wasn't a dream. This was real. I had to survive it. Cedar exhaled through his nose. "We need to keep moving. If you're done with your tantrum." I swallowed hard. "Where are you taking me?" A flicker of something passed through his expression. "Annora." I had no idea what that was. He must have seen the confusion in my face because he added, "It's a village." "That doesn't exactly explain anything," I muttered. He ignored that and turned on his heel, already walking. "We'll reach it before sunrise if we keep moving." I hesitated. My gaze flicked to the ogres' corpses one last time before I forced herself to move, trailing after him. The forest stretched endlessly ahead, vast and unrelenting. Dark. Even the moonlight struggled to touch the earth beneath the thick canopy of leaves. Silence stretched between us as we walked. For a while, all I could focus on was the sound of my own footsteps, the crunch of dried leaves beneath my boots. My body still aches from being dragged through the forest, my head throbbed from the sheer overwhelm of it all. I kept stealing glances at Cedar, at the way he moved—so precise, so quiet—as if the world itself bent around him, allowing him to pass unnoticed. It was unsettling. And, maybe even more unsettling, was the fact that I didn't know what he wanted from me. My mind kept circling back to what the ogres had said. A human? As if that meant something. As if I was... valuable. A shiver ran through me. I hugged myself tighter. "Why did you kill them?" I asked, breaking the silence. Cedar didn't look at me. "Because they would have killed us." I frowned. "I—I mean, I get that. But you didn't hesitate. You didn't even try to—" "There's no reasoning with creatures like that." His voice was flat, final. I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. But then— "Did you want me to let them take you?" My stomach twisted. I didn't answer. Because we both knew the truth. No matter how much the violence unsettled me, no matter how much fear and confusion clawed at my chest— he did what had to be done. I had no doubt what would have happened if he hadn't. Still, the way he spoke, the ease with which he had killed, sent fear through my veins. I wasn't sure if I should be grateful or terrified. Maybe both. His bravery is admirable if not terrifying. We kept moving, deeper into the forest. The farther they traveled, the denser the trees became. The air turned colder, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and wildflowers. And then—something shifted. The forest around us blurred, as if the space itself was stretching, bending. I stumbled to a stop. "What the hell—?" Cedar didn't stop. "We're close." My pulse hammered. Not that it ever really slowed down. "What do you mean close? Whats happening?" "The paths here aren't... fixed," he said. He sighs explaining further "Where we're headed is hidden by illusion-based magic. The deeper you go, the harder it is to navigate without knowing the secret paths unless you know where you're going." I stared at him, wide-eyed. "The—what?" This was insane. But he wasn't paying attention to me anymore. I had stopped asking where we were hours ago. The last time I did, Cedar simply said, "Almost there." And I had almost believed him—until the trees opened up. One moment, we were wading through dense underbrush, and the next, the forest parted like a curtain, revealing something I could never have imagined. Annora.