Something was different. I couldn't quite place my finger on it. The air felt lighter, almost tangible, like I was breathing in something sweeter than what I was used to.
Did I pass out again? I was taken to the pit, I broke Little Mike's hands, and then Mira…
And just like that, the memories of everything that happened came rushing in, like a tidal wave crashing against me. My eyes flew open, expecting the usual sterile white ceiling, but instead, I was met with something entirely unfamiliar. Rustic wooden beams, warm and weathered, stretched above me, doing their quiet, steadfast job of holding up the roof of the room I was in.
I blinked in confusion.
What is that? Am I dead?
My senses started returning in fragments, piecing together the reality around me. The air felt fresher here, lighter. I could almost taste it, like it was infused with the scent of pine and earth, the kind that made you feel grounded, alive.
I was lying on the softest bed I'd ever felt—warm, plush, like it was cradling me. It wasn't the cold, clinical feel of the beds I'd known. I turned my head slowly, still disoriented, and surveyed my surroundings. The room was small, but cozy, the kind of place that felt safe. Everything was bathed in rich earth tones—browns, deep oranges, and muted greens. Not a speck of white anywhere. There were two sturdy wooden chairs tucked under a table against the far wall, a dresser to my left, and at the foot of the bed, a square hole in the wall with a fire crackling inside it. It flickered and danced, casting a soft orange glow across the room, keeping the space warm and inviting.
I sat up carefully, stretching my arms, and realized something else: I wasn't dressed in my usual scrubs. Instead, I was wearing a thick, brown knitted sweater, navy-green pants, and woolen socks.
Socks. I'd never worn socks before. They felt odd against my skin, but somehow comforting.
As I stretched my hand out to touch the socks, it passed through a warm beam of light that cut through the room like a spotlight.
Huh. It's… warm.
I traced the source with my eyes and froze. There, just beyond a large, square-shaped opening in the wall, sunlight poured through, spilling over the room in a gentle cascade. Blue skies. It was like a dream. I blinked, struggling to process what I was seeing.
A… w-window. That's a window. I have to be in heaven.
I could feel my throat tighten as my eyes began to sting with unshed tears. For a moment, I just sat there, staring at the outside world, feeling the warmth of the sunlight on my skin like a blessing I'd never expected to receive.
And then—
The door opened.
I froze. My heart leaped in my chest, a sudden rush of panic shooting through me. I scooted back against the head of the bed, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees and burying my face between them, instinctively shrinking, making myself smaller.
The footsteps stopped immediately, just inside the room. I could feel the shift in the air, the tension, as the person must have noticed my reaction.
"Hey, hey, hey. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." His voice was soft, almost too gentle, like he was trying not to scare a wild animal. "Look, I'm unarmed."
I hesitated, slowly lifting my head. My eyes met his, and I couldn't look away.
He was beautiful. Striking, even. His brown hair had streaks of blonde woven through it, messy yet deliberate, and his eyes—those eyes were dark, like coals burning hot, filled with heat and a kind of fierce intensity.
But it was his ears that caught me off guard. They weren't like mine. His were pointed, elongated at the top, about an inch longer than mine, and they had a presence of their own. I could almost feel the power radiating from him, sparking in the air like electricity but somehow warm and bright.
Is this how angels look? He doesn't have wings.
"Hey, do you promise not to jump out the window if I come a little closer?" He asked, a touch of humor in his voice as he raised his palms toward me, showing me that he was harmless.
I nodded, albeit cautiously. My heart thudded in my chest, and my breath came in shallow gasps. I stayed frozen where I was, unsure if I could trust my own instincts.
When he saw that I wouldn't bolt, he stepped forward with a fluid grace, like his movements were made to flow in perfect harmony with the room. His presence seemed to take over the space, making the air feel warmer, heavier with something I couldn't name.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be awake. I would have knocked first."
I could barely find my voice. "Are you an angel?" I asked, my words coming out scratchy and rough, like I hadn't spoken in days. I probably hadn't.
"What?" he asked with a small huff of laughter, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I'm dead, right? Is this heaven?"
He chuckled softly, the sound soothing despite the tension. "You're not dead," he said, that gentle smile never leaving.
"I'm not?"
"No.You've been unconscious for a while, but you're not dead." He poured some water into a cup from the jug on the table. "Here, drink some water. You must be thirsty."
I stared at the cup he handed me, still uncertain if I could trust anything. But my body betrayed me—the thirst was unbearable. I took the cup, sipping cautiously at first, then greedily finishing it off, the cool liquid sliding down my dry throat, soothing the ache.
"More?" he asked, his voice kind. I nodded, and he refilled it with ease, his movements steady and sure.
I didn't even realize how thirsty I was until the water started to revive me, bringing me back to life. After two more cups, I felt like myself again, the weight of exhaustion lifting just a little.
He placed the jug back on the table. "I need to go get the General. She'll be so glad to know you're awake. I won't be long. Will you be okay?"
I nodded, my gaze straying back to the window, losing myself in the endless blue sky. It was hard to believe that I wasn't dreaming. That I wasn't dead.
When he returned, he knocked before opening the door, and coming in with someone else. If I had thought he was beautiful, the person that came in with him was downright ethereal.
It was her.
She stepped inside, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background as I was suddenly surrounded by power different from the other guy. This one was fiery. Like a boiling hot storm roiling just underneath her skin, waiting to happen. Heavy, thick and angry but tightly controlled.
She was the one who'd carried me out of the lab, her presence etched into my memory like a brand. I hadn't seen her clearly then, but now—now I could take her in fully. Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back in waves, tied back loosely in a ponytail that still held strands of wildness. Her emerald eyes locked onto mine, full of depth, power, and something else I couldn't name.
Her skin was a pale pink-peach, almost glowing under the sunlight, and her lips—those lips were soft, full, and the perfect shade of red. Her clothes were simple but striking—a brown cotton shirt that hugged her toned stomach and leather pants that only emphasized her curves.
She was stunning, ethereal, but powerful.
I couldn't stop staring.
She walked closer, her gaze softening, and for the first time since I'd woken up, I felt something shift inside me.
"Glad to see you're finally awake. I was worried," she said, her voice low, husky—like velvet and fire wrapped together.
"Worried about me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as I looked up at her, completely captivated.
She nodded, her gaze steady, and sat on the edge of the bed. "You've been out for a week now. I was worried you wouldn't wake up."
"Why?" I asked, my heart pounding, not knowing why I needed to know, but feeling the question clawing its way out of me.
She frowned, slightly taken aback. "Why not?"
I didn't know how to respond, so I said the first thing that came to my mind. "I saw you. You carried me from the lab."
She smiled, her eyes warm. "Yes," she said softly, her voice laced with something I couldn't quite place.
So beautiful.
"Who are you people?" I asked, my voice shaky.
"My name is Aethera, and this is Ember," she gestured to the guy who'd given me water earlier. "He's my second in command. What is your name?"
"Jay," I answered.
"Jay." She repeated my name like it was a secret she was savoring. "You have really pretty eyes, Jay."
"Thanks?" I wasn't sure what my eyes looked like, but I believed her if she thought they were pretty.
"Where are we, if I'm not dead?" I asked, my curiosity pressing forward like a wild thing, unwilling to be contained.
She chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "This is the Autumn Lands. We're currently in an outpost cabin on the borders."
Why did I ask like I knew where anywhere was? "Autumn Lands? I don't know where that is."
"Oh?" She seemed surprised, her eyebrows rising as she exchanged a quick, curious glance with Ember. "Well.... first, you must be starving. Come on, let's get you something to eat." She stood up, her movements smooth, effortless, as if she belonged to this place. She offered me her hand.
I hesitated for a moment, my gaze flicking between her hand and her eyes. When I finally placed mine in hers, something... sparked.
The moment our skin touched, a jolt shot up my arm—an electric shock, cold and intense, as though the air around us had crackled with energy. We both jerked back, startled, eyes wide in mutual disbelief.
What the hell?
I stared at my hand, the tingling still lingering, and glanced up at Aethera. She looked just as shocked as I felt. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, studied me for a moment, then flitted over to Ember. I saw something flicker in her gaze—something I couldn't place.
She felt that too, right?
"What was that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the words hanging in the air between us.
"I..." Aethera blinked, and just like that, whatever it was, it was gone. She straightened up, pushing the moment away. "Nothing. Come on. I'm sure the food is ready." Her tone had hardened. There was a weight to it, like she wasn't entirely sure herself what had just happened. She turned, not waiting to see if we followed.
I watched her walk out, and as I looked to Ember, he wore the same confused expression. He seemed unsure, like there was something on the tip of his tongue that he didn't want to say.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, still feeling the ghost of that strange energy on my skin.
"No, of course not," he said, though his eyes held something unreadable. He gave a tight smile and then shook his head, as if to clear it. "Come on. Let's get you fed."
I pushed myself up from the bed, and immediately my legs buckled beneath me, like they'd forgotten how to hold my weight.
"Oh, shit! You okay?" He lurched forward, hand outstretched to catch me, but I shook him off.
"I'm fine, just… a little wobbly," I muttered, steadying myself with a deep breath as I forced my knees to lock. I held up my hands, showing him I was solidly back on my feet. "See? All good."
His skeptical gaze lingered on me, his arms hovering just in case. "Oookay…" He didn't seem convinced, and his eyes stayed sharp, ready to step in the second I so much as wavered.
He led me out into the hallway, and I followed, my thoughts still spinning around what had just happened. We passed by a couple of doors, the scent of herbs and smoke lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of wood. The soft creak of floorboards beneath our feet was the only sound as we made our way down the corridor.
The hallway opened up into what looked like a common area, the kind of space that felt lived in—comfortable, familiar. A long wooden table dominated the center, large enough to seat about twelve, though the chairs were scattered around haphazardly, some with cloaks draped across them. The air was warm, filled with the scent of something savory simmering in the background. Sunlight filtered through several windows, casting golden rays across the room, but what really caught my attention was a doorway on the far side.
An open door. One that led outside.
I glanced up at Ember, my pulse quickening as I wondered—would he let me?
He must have caught the look in my eyes, because he gave a slight nod and asked, "You want to go outside?"
My heart leapt in my chest, and I nodded vigorously. "Can I?"
"Of course you can. In fact, I'm sure the guys would love to see that you're awake. They volunteered to stay behind with me and the General because we couldn't take you through the portal while you were unconscious. They were worried about you, too. Go on." Ember gestured for me to go first, his voice steady, reassuring.
I didn't need to be told twice. Without waiting another second, I practically bolted towards the door, my sock-covered feet slipping on the floor as I rushed out onto the porch. I stumbled on the first step, my foot catching on the uneven wood. The ground seemed to shift beneath me as I tripped and fell to my knees, hands sinking into the cool sand and crunching through the leaves and sticks scattered across the ground.
I froze for a moment, my eyes closing as I took a long, deep breath.
I was outside.
The air tasted different—crisp, fresh, the smell of earth and wildflowers filling my lungs. I opened my eyes to the sight of a sprawling landscape, a sky so blue it almost hurt to look at. The trees stretched high above me, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The sounds of rustling leaves, distant birds, and the occasional chirp of a creature I couldn't name filled the space around me.
I threw my head back and laughed—a loud, joyous sound that bubbled up from deep inside me. The kind of laugh that felt like it might tear through me, raw and unrestrained.
And then, just like that, the laughter turned into tears. I buried my face in the sand, unable to stop the flood of emotions that hit me all at once. Mira... she could have been here. She should have been here, laughing with me, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. But I'd failed her. I'd gotten her killed.
The sobs came in waves, each one harder than the last. My body trembled, curling in on itself, as the weight of everything—Mira's death, the endless years of captivity—crushed me all over again.
I curled up on the ground, knees pulled to my chest, and I sobbed. The tears came hard and fast, and I couldn't stop them. The pain of it all—of losing her—crashed over me, and I let it consume me.
I barely noticed Ember kneeling beside me, but I felt his presence. He didn't touch me, didn't try to comfort me with empty words. He simply stayed there, silent and steady, like a rock in the storm, until the tears finally ran dry.