The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes… was the sky.
It stretched endlessly overhead—deep, velvet blue, with shimmering clouds streaked silver and violet, curling and shifting like liquid paint across a cosmic canvas.
A breeze swept past, warm but carrying a strange electric hum. My hair, messy from my epic face-plant, fluttered around my face, tangling in my lashes. I shoved it back with a groan, blinking at the ruins towering around me.
Crumbled stone arches rose like skeletons of forgotten temples. Vines crept along cracked marble walls, their leaves glowing faintly blue under the sunlight—or whatever passed for sunlight here. The air buzzed softly, thick with glowing specks of light drifting lazily between the ruins.
I sat up, dirt clinging to my jeans, my backpack awkwardly digging into my side. My phone? Still in my jacket pocket, thankfully, though the screen had seen better days. I unlocked it—no signal, obviously—but the camera still worked.
"Proof, or no one's ever believing this," I muttered, flipping the camera and snapping a selfie. My reflection? Dirt-smeared, hair wild, eyes wide with disbelief. Behind me? Glowing ruins. Floating lights. Basically every fantasy novel's fever dream.
My heartbeat hammered as I stood, dusting myself off, curiosity battling panic. I tugged the backpack onto my shoulders and started walking—boots crunching over ancient stone, ducking beneath fallen pillars.
The ruins stretched further than I thought—cracked stairways disappearing into tangled vines, broken statues watching silently from their forgotten perches. Strange markings etched into the stone glowed faintly beneath my fingertips as I traced them.
Symbols twisted like constellations. Words? Maybe. Ancient warnings? Probably. Did I understand them? Absolutely not.
"This is exactly how people die in horror movies," I whispered, but my feet kept moving, crunching over gravel and ancient moss. My brain, traitor that it was, started spinning stories to keep me sane:
What if this was some hidden temple? What if these ruins were guarding a portal? What if I just stumbled into a magical realm where—
A shadow flickered ahead.
I froze.
Between two towering, cracked pillars, a figure stood—tall, graceful, hair long as moonlight, drifting weightlessly in the faint breeze. Her robes flowed around her like mist. Skin pale as moonstone. Long red hair glowed like fire against the cool colors of the ruins.
She didn't walk—she hovered, floating forward, eyes glowing faint gold, watching me like I was the most interesting disaster she'd seen all day.
My heart lurched.
Beautiful. Ethereal. Totally not normal.
"Okay… ghost? Elf? Interdimensional fashion model?" I whispered, nerves sparking down my spine.
She smiled faintly, lifting a delicate hand, her fingers trailing through the glowing air like she belonged to this place in a way I never could.
She spoke—soft, melodic, words laced in an ancient language I couldn't begin to understand. The syllables curled through the ruins like music, wrapping around me.
I blinked. "Yeah, that's not English."
She giggled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement, drifting closer. Her feet never touched the ground, robes billowing weightlessly.
I, on the other hand, was a walking disaster.
"I'm Armish," I offered awkwardly, patting my chest. "Lost… stressed… probably hallucinating."
She tilted her head, smiling brighter, her golden eyes shimmering like liquid sunlight. Despite the language barrier, something about her expression was… happy. Playful. Like she was thrilled to see me stumble through her ruins like a confused idiot.
Fantastic.
A low growl suddenly rippled through the air.
I spun around, pulse hammering in my ears.
There, standing at the edge of the ruins, half-shadowed beneath an ancient arch, was a wolf.
Massive. Pitch-black fur sleek as ink. Silver eyes locked onto me—sharp, intelligent, glinting with something almost… amused.
"Oh, come on," I groaned, holding up my hands. "Ancient ruins, glowing ghost ladies, and now a judgmental wolf? Peak life choices, Armish."
The ghost woman chuckled softly behind me, clearly entertained by my spiral.
I took a cautious step back, boot scuffing over loose stones. The wolf's ears twitched, head tilting slightly, like he was deciding whether I was prey… or just pathetic.
I whispered under my breath, "This is why I hate forests."
But despite the nerves, that ridiculous part of me—the one who devoured fantasy novels and invented stories about cursed squirrels during staff meetings—was already buzzing with fascination.
The ruins. The glowing sky. The ancient, beautiful ghost. The wolf.
Whatever mess I stumbled into… it was just getting started.