Through The Shifting Trees

Chapter 2 The Price Of Passage

It wasn't a city. Not in the way I understood cities. There were no streets, no stone buildings, no bustling markets. Instead, the entire village was woven into the trees. Lanterns hung from the branches, casting a soft golden glow over walkways made of interwoven roots and vines. Homes were carved into massive trunks, some suspended in the air by thick ropes, connected by narrow wooden bridges. Waterfalls tumbled down mossy cliffs, feeding into glowing pools that reflected the light like liquid gold.

And the people.

They weren't like anyone I'd ever seen. They were more.

A harpy with dark wings perched on a high branch, her keen eyes following us suspicion on her face. A faun with twisting horns leaned against a railing, chatting with a woman whose arms were covered in delicate silver scales. A group of children darted between the trees, giggling, their tiny wings or tails peeking from beneath their clothes.

This place was beautiful. My mouth fell open. It was magical.

But it wasn't home.

And I was still a prisoner.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the ache in my chest.

Cedar didn't give me a chance to stop and gawk for long. He grabbed my wrist, tugging me forward through the winding pathways until we reached the largest tree I had ever seen. It wasn't just a tree—it was a fortress, its massive trunk hollowed out into a grand hall, wide enough to fit an entire village inside.

Two figures stood at the entrance, waiting.

One was a man—or at least, he looked like one. He was tall but not nearly as large as Cedar, his pale skin smooth and ageless, his red-and-white hair pulled back into a loose braid, his ears long and pointed. His sharp features were unreadable, but his golden eyes flickered with something I couldn't name.

Beside him, a much smaller figure stood with her hands clasped in front of her. She was just under my 5ft stature, her white curls spilling over her shoulders. Her wings—wings—were folded neatly behind her, shimmering in the lantern light. She looked delicate, but something in her gaze felt sharp.

Cedar stopped in front of them and inclined his head. "Horax. Clover."

The man—Horax—studied me for a long moment before speaking. "So," he said, his voice quiet, measured. "I never know who or what you'll bring back but a human woman is definitely surprising to say the least. I have so many questions."

He said human like I was some strange artifact Cedar had dragged in.

My frustration boiled over. "My name is Eloise," I snapped.

Horax's lips twitched—almost like he wanted to smile. But he didn't.

The woman, Clover, took a step closer, her green eyes filled with something softer. Pity, maybe. "You must be frightened," she said gently. "You've come a long way."

I didn't know what to say to that.

Frightened didn't even begin to cover it.

Before I could respond, Horax turned his attention back to Cedar. "And you're certain she's human?"

Cedar's jaw tensed. "Yes. She's from Earth."

Horax exhaled slowly, like that single fact held the weight of a thousand decisions. Then, finally, he nodded. "Very well. We'll discuss this inside."

I didn't have a choice but to follow.

The hall inside was even more stunning than the outside—walls lined with glowing vines, tables carved from ancient wood, a massive hearth crackling in the center of the room. People were gathered inside, murmuring to each other, their eyes flicking to me with open curiosity.

I was out of place.

And then, I heard it.

The sentence that changed everything.

"She will be traded for Hex."

The world tilted beneath me.

I stared at Cedar, my heart flip flopping in my chest. "What did you just say?"

He didn't flinch. Didn't hesitate. Just met my gaze with that same unreadable expression. "The capital has my sister. She's been imprisoned for four years. You're valuable. They'll make the trade." He said flat.

I laughed. A short, disbelieving sound. "So that's what this is? I'm just—some bargaining chip to you?"

Cedar didn't blink. "Yes."

Rage crashed over me like a tidal wave. I wanted to hit him. To scream. How f*****g dare he.

I wasn't an object. I wasn't something to be handed over like stolen goods.

Before I could open my mouth to rip into him, a voice cut through the tension.

"I don't think this is a good idea."

I turned toward the speaker.

A woman stood near the hearth, her arms crossed over her chest. She was petite with long blonde hair and striking green eyes. Something about her was instantly softer than the others, her allure demanding.

Her gaze flickered between Cedar and Horax. "Trading her is dangerous," she said. "We don't know what they'll do once they have her. What if they take her and keep Hex? What if they send troops after us? Imagine the torture you'd subject her to"

Cedar exhaled through his nose. "That... doesn't matter. This is our opening."

"It does matter," she shot back.

"Bunny," he warned. Her name was fitting.

"You're a liability," he told me bluntly. "Even if you stayed you're putting everyone at risk."

Bunny shot him a look "Oh please everyone who lives here isn't even allowed to be alive. We're all a risk."

Cedar didn't respond, “She’s running out of time. This is our only shot.” He said desperately before storming off.

I clenched my fists, watching him go.

Fine. If he wanted to act like I didn't matter, I'd prove him wrong. Bastard.

Clover piped in. "Cedar is being unreasonable. He knows how they treat earth dwellers. It wouldn't be right. And if they had a female? Horrendous." She muttered to Horax.

Clover turned to me, her expression shifting. "I'm sorry," she said, and somehow, I believed she meant it. "I don't think you should be here either. You should be on your homeland. But that isn't possible anymore. None of this isn't right."

For a brief, flickering moment, I thought maybe I had an ally.

Horax sighed, rubbing his temple. "We'll discuss it further. For now, she stays under watch."

Just like that, my fate was decided. Bunny was deemed in charge of my whereabouts.

I had been in this world for less than a day, and already, I was trapped.

I had no friends here. No way home.

But I wasn't going to sit here and accept it.

I was not going to let them trade me like some meaningless thing.

I was going to find my own way out.

I spent the next few hours trying to ignore the way my skin burned with frustration.

I wasn't in chains. No one shoved me in a cell or tied me to a post. But I wasn't free, either. Every step I took was shadowed by watchful eyes, every move met with quiet scrutiny. I could wander the pathways winding through Annora, marvel at the towering trees and strange, glowing flora, but I wasn't alone for a second.

Some watched with cold indifference. Others, who approached me near the training grounds, weren't so subtle. I'm exhausted. I'm dirty. I just want to sleep.

"We should have killed you."

The words were so blunt, so casually spoken, that it took me a moment to register them.

I turned to face the speaker. She was smaller than I expected, maybe five feet at most, but there was nothing delicate about her. The harpy from earlier. Her sleek black feathers blended into her dark clothing, her piercing eyes filled with open distrust.

I swallowed the immediate spike of fear and lifted my chin. "Nice to meet you too."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Cedar made a mistake bringing you here."

Before I could respond, Bunny's voice cut through the tension. Where did she even come from? "Moss."

Moss barely spared her a glance. "You know I'm right."

Bunny huffed. "You're being dramatic."

"I'm being cautious."

I held Moss's gaze. "I didn't ask to be here."

Moss tilted her head slightly, studying me in a way that made my skin crawl. Then, with an unimpressed flick of her feathers, she turned and stalked away.

I exhaled, not realizing how tense I'd been.

"She's just like that," Bunny said beside me. "Don't take it personally. Let's go get you settled."

Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one being considered a threat just for existing.

A loud, sudden crash made me flinch.

I turned to find a massive figure hunched over a broken crate, cheeks burning red as scattered vegetables rolled across the ground.

Bunny grinned. "Come on."

I followed hesitantly as she approached the towering man, who looked like he wanted to sink into the earth.

"Cricket, you okay?" Bunny asked, already crouching to gather the fallen produce.

Cricket. What an interesting name for such a large boy.

He was bigger than Cedar, if that was even possible, broad like the ogres. A gentle giant, with soft features and wide, nervous eyes brimmed with glasses. He crouched, attempting to gather the mess with hands too large for the delicate work.

"I—I didn't mean to—" He paused when he noticed me.

I gave him a small, hesitant smile. "Hi."

Cricket stared, then quickly looked away, ears going red. "Hello miss."

"He's shy," Bunny stage-whispered teasing him, nudging my arm. He looked like he'd melt. I chuckled and knelt down to help, unsure if I was supposed to but it felt right. Cricket gave me bashful thank you before hurrying off.

As we walked, I started noticing things about Annora that I hadn't before. The path I'd walked earlier twisted into a different direction. Buildings I swore I'd seen on one street now stood somewhere else. Shapes flickered at the edge of my vision—small, darting creatures that vanished when I tried to focus on them.

"Everything shifts," Bunny said casually, catching me staring.

I frowned. "Shifts?"

"Annora's protected." She gestured vaguely at the trees, the paths, the air itself. "Magic keeps it hidden. The forest changes. The layout moves. If you don't belong here, you won't find it."

I did not belong here. Cedar had explained this when I arrived but seeing it first hand made me feel dizzy.

That night, I lay on the small cot in the room they'd given me, staring at the wooden ceiling. The air smelled different here—earthy, rich, tinged with something sweet. The sounds of the village hummed softly in the distance, but I felt like I was a world away. Hell, I was a world away.

I closed my eyes. The photo booth flickered behind my eyelids. The unnatural glow of its lights. The hum of energy. The distorted reflection of my own face. I reached for the memory, trying to grasp something—anything—that would make sense of how I got here. Then, just as I drifted between waking and sleep, I heard them. Whispers. Soft, unfamiliar words curling around me. I shot up, heart pounding. The room was empty. Whispers gone. Perhaps paranoia has set in. In the last twenty four hours I’ve traveled worlds, been kidnapped, almost murdered, witnessed two deaths, and now I’m in an enchanted village. Fatigue has set in despite my racing thoughts.