He didn't know how much time had passed.He didn't know where he was, either.
He only knew that he was still alive.
The voices reached him distorted, as if passing through layers of water and sleep. He couldn't recognize a single word. There was no familiar rhythm, no sounds he could associate with anything he had learned before. It was a completely foreign language.
He tried to move.
Nothing.
His body didn't respond, but this time there was no pain. Only an uncomfortable heaviness, as if he were sunk into something soft that neither fully trapped him nor let him go.
Then the memories returned.
Not all at once.
Fragments.
The forest, too silent.The red eyes.The feeling of being hunted.
His breathing grew irregular.
What… was that thing…? he thought.
It didn't sound like a clear thought. More like a delayed reaction—a question that arrived only after fear had already done its job.
Something inside him trembled.
Not from pain.
From certainty.
That hadn't been a normal animal.And this place… wasn't normal either.
This isn't my body… no hospital I've ever been in sounds like this. It smells like wood… and this forest shouldn't even exist.
He thought, piecing together all the inconsistencies he had noticed.
Reviewing what had happened, he reached a cold, logical conclusion.
So… am I dead? But… why do I feel pain?
He didn't understand.
Heh… I've asked myself more questions today than on any other day…
He laughed bitterly, ironically, inside his mind.
So… I reincarnated in another world, didn't I?
His eyes opened without warning.
He lifted his gaze sharply, and the first thing he found was darkness—a wooden ceiling barely visible, swallowed by shadow.
"It's night…" he murmured.
He tried to adjust himself, but a sharp pain shot through his body like an electric shock. A muffled groan escaped him.
"Damn…"
He stayed still, breathing carefully, letting the burning sensation settle. Only then did he scan the room with his eyes. He could barely make anything out. The room was small, silent, strange.
He moved his head slightly and managed to see a four-pane window.
Beyond it… the forest.
The shadows of the trees rose like black walls, closing off the world.
So… I really am still in this forest…
A shiver ran down his spine.
Were those two people the ones who brought me here…? Who are they… and why would they help me?
In the quiet of the room, the sound of a door opening broke the silence.
Soft footsteps approached.
A figure sat down at the edge of the bed.
The young man remained motionless, his body tense, unsure whether he should move… or pretend to still be unconscious.
A warm hand rested on his forehead.
Then, carefully, it moved down to his neck.
The pressure was light. Professional. Calm.
The girl spoke in an animated, almost relieved tone. The words made no sense to him, but the gesture did.
"…," she said, smiling, as if confirming something she had expected.
The young man looked at her, confused.
He didn't understand her language.
But for the first time since he had woken up in that world…
he didn't feel any danger.
The girl subtly raised her hand.
The stones embedded in the room began to emit a faint light, just enough to reveal the surroundings without being harsh. The boy opened his eyes a little wider, completely astonished.
I'm… hallucinating… he thought.
Now he could see her clearly.
She was a beautiful woman, though something about her didn't fit anything he had ever seen before. Her straight hair was black, streaked with strands of an electric yellow impossible to ignore. Her eyes, with pupils of the same bright color, seemed to reflect that unnatural light. She wore a kind of robe that covered her body—simple, yet strange for any hospital he knew.
Her voice was soft, but firm.
This… must be dye. And contact lenses…He tried to convince himself.But… it looks too real.
He watched her with a mix of confusion and fascination, unable to look away.
The girl noticed.
She let out a low laugh—no mockery in it—and adjusted herself naturally, allowing him to see her better, as if she had nothing to hide.
The boy blushed and looked away, embarrassed.
The girl smiled gently and made a small sound to draw his attention. Then she spoke in a calm, kind tone, inviting him to trust her. He didn't understand her words, but he caught something at the end, when she pointed to herself.
"Aida Vronte."
It didn't sound like a sentence. It sounded like a name.
The boy whispered:
"Aida…"
As if he needed to confirm it. He was still wary, but he knew he needed help.
She nodded and pointed to herself again.
"Me, Aida."
Then she pointed at him.
"You?"
He didn't understand the language, but the intention was clear.
"F-Fares…" he replied, with a hint of embarrassment.
The girl repeated his gesture, pronouncing his name carefully, as if making sure she would remember it correctly.
He nodded.Still wary, but a little calmer.
Aida approached without haste and gently pulled back the sheets. The boy could then see that his body was covered in bandages and pressed leaves, arranged with precision. Without saying anything, she began removing them one by one, with confident, practiced movements.
It didn't hurt.
The wounds were closed.The bruises, still visible, were no longer as swollen.
The boy couldn't help but be surprised. After a fall like that, his body shouldn't have been in this condition.
"Th-thank you…" he murmured, embarrassed but sincerely grateful.
Aida didn't understand the words, but she caught the tone. She smiled faintly and continued her work, removing the last of the bandages and leaves.
He understood then.
Talking was useless.The language barrier was still there.
So he stayed silent.
Watching.Waiting.
After a few moments of silence, the girl stood up, walking away with the bandages in her hands. Before leaving, she gave him one last smile as a farewell and exited the room.
The boy was left alone, and due to the fatigue he still felt, he decided to sleep again, letting himself sink once more into the world of dreams.
Later in the afternoon, as the sun began to set and the sky turned shades of orange, the soft rays of dusk passed through the windows and fell over Fares, who was still asleep. Meanwhile, he was being watched by three people who spoke in normal voices, careful not to wake him.
Fares stirred slightly, showing signs of waking up. The three watched him closely, waiting for him to open his eyes, and one of them sat down at the edge of the bed.
The young man's eyes opened and fixed on the three figures before him: Aida, and two strangers whose appearance made his eyes widen even more in surprise.
The person sitting on the bed was a young girl, around seventeen to twenty years old, with eyes like diamonds and cherry-red hair that shimmered with ruby tones. Her appearance was refined, modest, and elegant, and she smiled at him in greeting.
In the center stood a tall man with a serious gaze and an imposing presence, the kind of person who clearly held authority in that place. His eyes looked like liquid iron, and his hair shared the same reddish tone as the girl's.
On the other side was Aida, the young woman who had treated him before, now wearing proper clothes instead of the white robe she had worn earlier.
Fares was impressed.
The reddish hair, the shining eyes, even that impossible yellow… everything felt strange, almost unreal. Yet for them, it all seemed completely normal.
The red-haired girl smiled when she noticed him staring and approached without hesitation, examining him from head to toe with open curiosity, making no attempt to hide it.
The boy's body tensed like a violin string.
Noticing this, the girl let out a light laugh and took a step back, giving him space. Then she said something in an animated tone that sent a chill down his spine, even though he didn't understand the words.
From her gaze and gesture, Fares deduced that she was confirming his name, and he nodded cautiously.
She stepped closer again and casually took his hand.
"Lyrastrid… Lyra," she said, pointing to herself, with a clearly provocative smile, as if deliberately seeking a reaction.
Fares felt heat rush to his face. He immediately looked away and murmured something quietly, awkwardly, unsure whether his words made any sense to her. He just wanted her to move away a little.
Lyra didn't understand anything he said, but she understood the gesture. She brought a hand to her cheek and replied in a soft, almost amused tone, filled with a tenderness that only deepened the boy's confusion.
Then the man who had been silently observing spoke. His voice was firm, tinged with reproach.
Lyra puffed out her cheeks slightly in a childish gesture and responded at once. The two began exchanging words that Fares couldn't understand, arguing naturally, as if this were a common occurrence.
Fares watched them in silence, feeling out of place, unable to follow the conversation, aware that the world continued to turn without him.
Aida approached the argument, gently interrupting. She pointed at the boy while speaking to them, and after a few seconds of exchange, they seemed to reach a decision.
The man nodded once and left the room.
Lyra gave Fares one last smile and waved goodbye, still carrying that carefree air that seemed natural to her. Then she left, leaving them alone.
Aida searched for a sheet of paper and a pencil. She sat down at the edge of the bed, facing Fares.
He didn't understand what was happening until she wrote something on the paper. They were letters he had never seen before. Then she made a simple, almost childish gesture, raising her hand slightly, and spoke a word he didn't understand.
Even so, he knew.
Aida was trying to say "hello."