Juan glanced at the donkey and then at the slope behind them. "I was trying to leave the village. I wanted to go to the central village to buy a sword. But my donkey slipped, and I fell..." His voice trailed off as he touched the bump on his forehead.
Jea frowned. "Leave the village? Why would you do that on your own?"
Juan's expression grew defensive. "I'm not a kid! I'm old enough to handle myself!"
Jea raised an eyebrow but decided not to argue. Instead, she helped him to his feet. "Well, you're lucky I found you. Come on, let's get you and your donkey back to the village."
"No!" Juan exclaimed, his eyes widening. "They'll just scold me. I don't want to go back."
Jea sighed. "Listen, I don't think you'll get very far in your condition. And what about your family? Don't you think they'll be worried?"
Juan hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. Together, they made their way back to the village, the donkey following obediently.
When they arrived, the villagers froze at the sight of them. A murmur spread through the crowd as Juan's name was whispered. Soon, an elderly woman pushed her way through the gathering crowd-it was Igo. Her stern expression melted into one of relief when she saw Juan.
"Juan!" she cried, rushing forward to embrace him. "What were you thinking, running off like that?"
Juan looked down, mumbling an apology.
Igo then turned her sharp gaze to Jea, who was steadying the boy. "You found him?"
"Yes," Jea replied simply, though her heart pounded in her chest.
The village leader regarded her for a long moment before nodding. "You've done a good thing today. But trust is not earned by a single act. Continue to prove yourself, and we may yet share what you seek."
Jea bit back a retort, instead nodding respectfully. She had a long way to go, but perhaps this was a step toward earning the village's trust-and uncovering the mystery of why she was here.
That night, Jea sat on a rickety wooden stool inside a tiny hut, illuminated by the faint light of a small oil lamp. The air smelled of earth and faintly of the nearby pigsty, and the chirping of crickets filled the silence. Jea leaned her head against the rough wooden wall, lost in her thoughts.
Her chest tightened as she thought of her mother, Norma. She would be so worried now. Jea could almost hear her mother's voice, chastising her for disappearing without a word. Norma had asked her to go to the market that afternoon, but Jea had made an excuse and snuck off to the old library instead.
Jea had always loved the library, its shelves lined with forgotten books that no one else seemed to care about. That day, she'd stumbled across an old manuscript tucked away in the corner of a dusty shelf. The parchment was yellowed with age, and the text was filled with strange symbols and diagrams. At first, she had dismissed it as nonsense-a fanciful tale about potions, magic, and rituals.
She wasn't even into that sort of thing. At fifteen, her interests leaned more toward pop music and stories about teen drama. Yet, something about the manuscript had pulled her in. Curiosity had won over practicality, and she'd spent hours reading, tracing her fingers over the symbols. She didn't even realize when the library closed until the text began to glow faintly. Her heart had raced, and before she could react, she'd been consumed by darkness-and then she'd woken up in that strange forest.
Jea sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. The reality of her situation was sinking in. This wasn't a dream or a game. She was truly in another world, with no idea how to get back.
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She opened it to find Juan standing there, balancing a plate of food.
"I brought this for you," he said, stepping inside.
The plate held a simple meal: corn rice, a small grilled fish, and a ripe banana. Jea's stomach growled audibly, and she realized how hungry she was.
"Thank you," she said, taking the plate. She sat back on the stool and ate with gusto, savouring each bite. The food was simple but delicious, and it warmed her in more ways than one.
Juan sat cross-legged on the floor, watching her. After a while, he spoke. "You don't look like you belong here."
Jea paused mid-bite, then set the plate down. "I don't. I don't even know how I got here. One moment, I was in my world, and the next, I was in that forest."
Juan frowned, his young face thoughtful. "Grandmother doesn't trust you. She says strangers bring trouble. Especially after what happened with the other woman."
"The other woman," Jea murmured, recalling Igo's words earlier. "Who was she? What happened?"
Juan hesitated, glancing at the door as if to make sure no one was listening. "She came to our village a long time ago. She was kind at first, but... she took something that wasn't hers. A flower. One of the enchanted ones from the forest."
"A flower?" Jea's mind raced. Could this stolen flower have something to do with her being here?
Juan nodded. "It's sacred to us. The flowers keep our village safe. Without them..." His voice trailed off, and he looked down at his hands. "After she left, strange things started happening. Crops failed, and animals fell ill. Grandmother says the flower's magic was protecting us, and now it's gone."
Jea swallowed hard. "That's why your grandmother doesn't trust me. She thinks I'll do the same thing."
"Maybe," Juan said. "But I don't think you're like her. You saved me and my donkey. That means something."
Jea managed a small smile. "Thanks, Juan. I just want to find a way home. I didn't mean to end up here, and I don't want to steal anything."
Juan grinned, his youthful confidence shining through. "Maybe you'll prove Grandmother wrong. She's stubborn, but if anyone can change her mind, it's you."
Jea chuckled softly, her spirits lifting just a little. For the first time since she arrived, she felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps earning the trust of these villagers wasn't impossible after all.
As Jea finished the last bite of her meal, she glanced at Juan, who was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, fiddling with a loose thread on his tunic. His earlier grin had faded, replaced by a somber expression.
"Juan," Jea began hesitantly, "can I ask you something?"