I woke up lying face down in the grass, my clothes sticking to me with sweat. My body felt like it had just been through a workout I didn't sign up for. I groaned and pushed myself up on shaky arms, brushing bits of dirt off my face. The grass beneath me felt damp and cool. It wasn't anything special—just regular grass, like the kind you'd find in any backyard. Somehow, that made everything else feel even stranger.
I sat back, trying to catch my breath. That's when I looked up.
The sky was enormous, stretching on forever. Two giant moons hung side by side, casting silver light over everything. Shadows stretched across the ground, long and sharp, but the world still felt bright—too bright for the night. The last thing I remembered flashed in my head: I had been lying in bed, sipping hot chocolate, reading a book. It was a calm, ordinary moment. This wasn't that.
"This has to be a dream," I said out loud, but the words sounded weak like I didn't believe them.
Then I saw it.
What am I supposed to do? Stay here?
I got to my feet, wiped my hands on my pants, and took a step toward the tree. Then another. The pull grew stronger, like the closer I got, the more I needed to keep going.
The air was cool and fresh, with the smell of dirt and water all around me. My eyes darted from side to side as I walked, taking everything in. Something flickered in the distance.
Far off, a group of strange creatures moved across the field. I stopped, holding my breath. They were like nothing I'd ever seen—bodies sleek and muscular like horses, but with long, monkey-like tails that lashed back and forth. Their faces looked stretched, almost snake-like, and long, thin whiskers shimmered under the moonlight.
"Hey!" I called out, raising a hand. My voice sounded small, like it was swallowed up by the night. They didn't even turn to look at me. They moved together, their shapes flickering as they disappeared into the distance. I stood there for a moment, suddenly feeling even more alone. Maybe they didn't hear me. Or maybe... they didn't care.
I started toward the tree, my pace deliberate, though my eyes darted to every corner of this alien world. My logical mind screamed that none of this could be real. Twin moons, creatures out of myth, a glowing tree—it defied every natural law I knew.
"A dream," I murmured aloud as if saying it could make it true.
But my curiosity betrayed me. For every step closer to the tree, my gaze lingered on something new. The ground beneath me shimmered faintly as if millions of tiny stars were embedded in the soil. Beneath the glow, roots—thin as spiderwebs and pulsing with light—spread outward like veins. I crouched, brushing the surface with my fingers. It felt warm, alive. When I pulled my hand back, faint trails of golden dust clung to my skin. My eyes narrowed. "Bioluminescence?" The thought soothed my restless mind, a technical explanation to ground me.
I turned back toward the tree. Its glow beckoned, like an unspoken promise. Every step pulled me closer. It wasn't just the tree—it was the idea of it, a gravity I couldn't explain. I kept moving toward the tree. My throat burned suddenly, dragging my attention to the stream glimmering in the moonlight nearby. My head turned when I caught the glint of water—a small stream cutting through the field. I didn't realize how thirsty I was until I saw it. I scrambled over rocky patches, nearly stumbling in my eagerness. I knelt by the stream, cupping water in my hands and drinking it down. It was cold, refreshing, and hit the back of my throat like nothing I'd ever tasted. Then I heard it—a faint splashing sound.
I looked up. A tiny squirrel-like creature was struggling against the current in the middle of the stream. It wasn't bigger than a hamster, but its wings—large and white like a seagull's—were soaked and pulled down. The creature thrashed around, its six glittering eyes wide and desperate. Without thinking, I reached out and scooped it up. The feathers stuck to my hands, wet and cold, as I lifted it out of the water. "You're alright," I whispered, more to myself than to it.
It sat there for a moment, shivering. Then it blinked at me and gave its wings a little shake. Droplets scattered everywhere, catching the moonlight like tiny sparks. With a sudden leap, the creature took off into the air. Its wings stretched wide as it disappeared into the glow of the tree ahead.
The glowing roots beneath my feet continued to pulse, their light growing faint as they spread into the forest. The air was alive with sounds—whispers of leaves, faint chirps, and a low hum that seemed to vibrate in my bones. It felt... constructed. Like this world wasn't grown, but made, crafted with an artist's precision. Then I saw it again—the squirrel-like creature, or maybe a different one. Its tiny body twitched as it perched on a low branch, wings tucked neatly against its sides. The six glittering eyes tracked something in the distance, their alien gaze both unsettling and mesmerizing. I crouched slowly, not wanting to startle it. My fingers brushed the glowing soil for balance as I leaned closer. The creature cocked its head, its movements sharp and mechanical, and then its wings unfurled. They were massive, stark white against its dark fur, and seemed far too large for its small body. As I took another step forward, the squirrel sprang into the air, its wings catching an unseen current. It soared upward in smooth, powerful strokes, the feathers shimmering like glass under the twin moons. I could only watch as it vanished into the glow of the towering tree ahead.
The forest seemed to darken as I moved closer to the tree's base. Its sheer scale became overwhelming, the trunk stretching beyond my vision, its golden threads of light forming a lattice that glimmered faintly in the night. The air here felt different—thicker, almost charged. A low rustle made me stop in my tracks. My eyes darted to the shadows. The silhouette moved like liquid, its black, obsidian-like fur blending seamlessly with the dark. A low, feline growl vibrated through the air. The creature moved with the silent grace of a panther, its glowing blue eyes locked onto me for a brief moment before it melted back into the trees. I exhaled, my chest tight. Whatever it was, it didn't attack. For now at least.
The closer I got to the tree, the more unreal it felt. The strings of light that made up its trunk shimmered and twisted, like glowing dust floating in water. They pulsed slowly, randomly, blinking in and out of sight. At the base of the tree, I stopped. The strings swayed, not from the wind but like they had a life of their own. I stared at them, trying to figure out how they worked. There was no rhythm, no pattern to follow, just chaos.
"This is crazy," I muttered, shaking my head. But the pull was still there, stronger now. I had to climb. I grabbed one of the strings. The first string I grabbed was firmer than it looked, though it flexed slightly under my weight. With slow, careful movements, I began to climb. Each string I grasped seemed to hum faintly as if the tree itself was alive. I pulled myself up, then reached for another, my grip tightening as I climbed higher. The climb wasn't easy. My arms and legs screamed at me after the first few minutes, but I couldn't stop. Below me, the ground was swallowed by a swirling mist of light that stretched endlessly.
The climb was gruelling. Minutes turned into hours, and the muscles in my arms and legs burned with effort. Yet I didn't feel as tired as I should have. My body protested, but not in the way it would on Earth. I couldn't explain it. Sweat trickled down my face as I hoisted myself up another level. Below, the ground had disappeared, replaced by a swirling expanse of glowing mist. Don't look down, I told myself, though curiosity got the better of me. For a moment, vertigo gripped me. The ground was so far below it might as well have been another world. The twin moons illuminated the forest canopy, their light reflecting off rivers and shimmering hills. The sight was breathtaking. I could see rolling hills far off in the distance, blurred by the mist.
Sweat poured down my face as I climbed higher. The strings faded away unpredictably, forcing me to move faster than I wanted. If I paused too long, the one I was holding onto might disappear.
I reached the top just as my strength gave out. My arms shook as I hauled myself onto a flat, glowing platform at the summit. My chest heaved as I lay there, staring at the stars above. The sky looked different from up here—deeper, darker, like the universe was right there, just out of reach.
Slowly, I pushed myself up and looked around. The platform was vast, its surface shimmering with threads of golden light that rippled under my touch.
That's when I heard it.
The voice wasn't a sound—it bypassed my ears entirely and settled into my mind like a weightless presence. It was incomprehensible, a language made of tones, harmonies, and rhythms that defied description. And yet... I understood.
Welcome.
The single word—or thought—rang through me, carrying an overwhelming sense of calm and reassurance. My head snapped around instinctively, though I knew the voice hadn't come from any direction. And yet, someone was there. A figure stood behind me, their form impossible to describe. They shimmered like sunlight through water, shifting with every blink of my eyes. My chest tightened, every cell of my body screaming at once. And as I turned to face it fully, the world seemed to hold its breath...