Elara woke slowly, her head pounding and her body stiff. Sunlight streamed through a small wooden window, casting warm golden streaks across the modest room. The smell of fresh bread and firewood filled the air, strange and comforting all at once.
She blinked, trying to remember… her workplace, the cube, the fall… the forest… It all felt unreal.
The man was there, standing near the hearth, tending to a kettle. When he noticed her stirring, he nodded.
"You are awake," he said. "You have slept for three days."
Elara sat up, rubbing her temples. "Three days?" she whispered. "I… I don't understand. Where… where am I?"
The man straightened, frowning slightly. "You are near the edge of the forest of Thalorien. Ravenshollow is the nearest town," he said calmly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Elara's eyes widened. "Thalorien… Ravenshollow?" She leaned back against the bed, overwhelmed. "What do you mean"
She swallowed hard, voice trembling. "Perhaps… what year is this?"
The man's brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. "The year… 1427, by our reckoning."
Elara froze. Her mind went blank. 1427? Her heart skipped, her stomach flipped. She couldn't speak for a long moment, staring at him in shock.
"Have I gone back to the p..past"
"Are you sure about this?" This isn't a game right?"
He took a step closer, tilting his head. "Are you… well? Lady, you seem… agitated." He glanced at her clothes—jeans, a hoodie, sneakers. His brow furrowed deeper. "And… what manner of garb is this? I have never seen clothes such as these. You are not from the nearby towns, are you?"
Elara shook her head, still staring at him. "I… I don't know. I… I'm not from here. I was… somewhere else, and then…" She trailed off, the words failing her.
The man's eyes softened slightly, though curiosity lingered. "Then you are… a stranger. Far from home. Come, you must eat and regain your strength. We shall speak more once you have rested. It seems misfortune—or perhaps Providence—has brought you here."
Elara leaned back against the pillow, trying to calm her racing thoughts. 1427. Thalorien. Ravenshollow. None of it made any sense. She had no idea how to move forward—or if she even
The man, whose name she still didn't know, gestured toward a small wooden table where a simple meal had been set. Bread, stew, and a cup of water, all arranged neatly.
"Eat," he said gently. "You must regain your strength. You have been unconscious for three days."
Elara stared at the food. Her stomach felt tight, twisted with confusion and disbelief. She had been awake only a few moments, and already her mind was spinning. The bread looked coarse, the stew thick and oddly colored. It smelled… earthy, unfamiliar.
She picked at a piece of bread, then set it down again. Her hand trembled.
"I… I can't," she whispered, her voice small. "I… I'm not… I don't… I can't eat this."
The man's brow furrowed, though his tone stayed gentle. "You cannot? It is… simple fare. Is it not to your liking?"
Elara shook her head, feeling tears prick her eyes. "It's not that," she said softly. "I… I'm not… I don't know where I am. Nothing… nothing makes sense."
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded as if understanding more than he should. "Very well," he said. "You need not eat now. Rest, and your appetite will return in time. Fear and exhaustion… they will often prevent one from taking sustenance."
Elara sank back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling, too overwhelmed to respond. The sunlight slanting through the window, the faint scent of herbs hanging from the ceiling, the low crackle of the fire—they should have been comforting, but all she could feel was a dizzying, endless confusion.
The man moved quietly around the room, checking the fire, muttering softly to himself. His presence was calm, steady—yet every so often, he glanced at her with curiosity, clearly unsettled by her strange clothing and bewildered demeanor.
"You… are not from any nearby village, I take it?" he asked again, more softly this time. "I have not seen garments such as yours… nor a manner of speech like yours."
Elara shook her head again. "No… I'm… I don't know. I was at work… and then…" She trailed off. The words didn't matter anymore.
The man gave a small nod. "Then rest. That is all you can do for now. The forest… and Ravenshollow… will still be here when you awaken."
Elara closed her eyes, the stew untouched, the bread unbitten. For the first time in her life, she felt entirely untethered—cut off from the world she knew, thrust into one she didn't understand, and unsure if she would ever find her footing again.