Chapter 2

  I can’t fall asleep. How can I fall asleep if I’m lost in a world that feels like a dream? The stars above twinkle with an intensity I’ve never seen before, each one a distant beacon in the vast, sapphire sky. They seem to mock my predicament, shining down on me as if to say, “You’re not in Marinduque anymore.”

  The soft moss beneath me is surprisingly comfortable, but the chill of the night air seeps into my bones. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, trying to find warmth in my own embrace. The sounds of the enchanted ndscape surround me—the gentle rustle of leaves, the distant trickle of water, and the soft hum of life that thrums beneath the surface. It’s beautiful, yes, but it’s also terrifying.

  I close my eyes, willing myself to rex, but my mind races. What happened back in the cave? Was it a portal? A trick of the light? I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve crossed some invisible boundary, stepping into a realm where the rules of reality no longer apply.

  I take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet, floral scent that fills the air. The fragrance is intoxicating, a mix of wildflowers and something else—something almost magical. I can’t help but wonder if the very air here is different, charged with energy that makes my skin tingle.

  As I sit in the darkness, I repy the events of the day in my mind. The storm, the cave, the glowing symbols on the walls, and then—this. This vibrant, surreal ndscape that feels alive. I can’t help but feel a sense of wonder, even amidst the fear. What if this pce holds secrets? What if it’s a world of adventure waiting to be explored?

  But the thought of being lost gnaws at me. I need to find a way back. I need to figure out how to return to the cave, to the familiar world I know. But how? The cave had vanished without a trace, and I have no idea how to navigate this strange nd. Just as I begin to formute a pn, a sound pierces the tranquility of the night—a deep, resonant screech that echoes through the grove. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard, a primal sound that reverberates in my chest and sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

  I freeze, heart pounding. The screech is followed by a rustling in the underbrush, a cacophony of movement that sends a wave of panic through me. I gnce around, my senses heightened, every instinct screaming at me to run. What could make such a sound? What lurks in the shadows of this enchanted ndscape?

  The screech comes again, louder this time, and I can feel the ground tremble beneath me. I scramble to my feet, my mind racing. I need to find shelter, a pce to hide. The trees loom around me, their twisted branches casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. I dart toward the thickest part of the grove, hoping to find a pce to conceal myself.

  As I weave through the trees, the screeching grows closer, mingling with the sound of heavy footsteps. My heart races as I push deeper into the underbrush, branches scratching at my arms and face. I can’t let whatever is making that sound find me. I need to stay quiet, to blend into the night.

  I finally spot a hollowed-out tree, its gnarled roots forming a natural alcove. I slip inside, pressing my back against the cool, damp wood. I hold my breath, straining to listen. The screech echoes again, closer now, and I can feel the vibrations in my chest.

  The footsteps stop, and for a moment, there’s silence. I can hear my own heartbeat, loud and frantic in the stillness. I peer out from my hiding spot, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever is out there. The moonlight filters through the leaves, casting a dappled glow on the ground.

  Then, I see it.

  A massive creature emerges from the shadows, its form silhouetted against the moonlight. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen—tall and imposing, with scales that shimmer like gemstones. Its wings, vast and leathery, stretch out behind it, catching the light in a way that makes them look almost ethereal. The creature’s eyes glow with an otherworldly light, scanning the area as if searching for something—or someone.

  I hold my breath, fear coursing through me. This creature is not just a figment of my imagination; it’s real, and it’s here, in this strange world I’ve stumbled into. My heart races as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. Is it a dragon? or something else entirely?

  The creature prowls closer, its massive form moving with an unsettling grace. I can see the intricate patterns on its scales, glimmering like jewels in the moonlight. It pauses, tilting its head as if it senses my presence, and I instinctively shrink back into the hollow tree, praying it doesn’t discover me. The air around me feels charged, as if the very essence of the night is holding its breath. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched, that the creature knows I’m here, hidden just out of sight. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in the stillness of the night. I strain to listen, hoping to catch any sound that might indicate its intentions. The creature pauses, its nostrils fring as it inhales deeply, taking in the scents of the grove. I hold my breath, praying that it doesn’t catch my scent. The moonlight glints off its scales, illuminating the intricate patterns that seem to shift and shimmer with every movement. It’s a mesmerizing sight, but the beauty of it is overshadowed by the fear coursing through me.

  Suddenly, the creature tilts its head, its rge, luminous eyes narrowing as they focus on the hollow tree. I can feel the weight of its gaze, a palpable force that sends a shiver down my spine. It takes a step closer, its massive footfall sending vibrations through the ground that resonate in my bones. I press myself deeper into the hollow, the rough bark digging into my back, hoping that the shadows will conceal me.

  The creature’s ears twitch, and I can see its muscles tense, ready to spring into action. I can’t move; I can’t make a sound. I’m frozen in pce, caught between the instinct to flee and the desire to remain hidden. The air feels thick with tension, and I can almost hear the creature’s heartbeat, a deep, rhythmic thrum that matches my own.

  Just when I think I might be discovered, the creature pauses again, its head tilting slightly as if it’s heard something beyond my own frantic heartbeat. It turns its gaze away from me, scanning the surrounding area with an intensity that makes my heart race. I take this moment to breathe quietly, hoping that whatever distraction has caught its attention will allow me to slip away unnoticed.

  But then, in a sudden movement, the creature shifts its focus back to me. It steps forward, its massive form blocking out the moonlight, casting a shadow over the hollow tree. I can see the glint of its scales, the sharpness of its cws, and the intensity of its gaze as it peers into the darkness.

  The creature’s snout inches closer, parting the leaves that shroud my hiding pce. Its breath washes over me—hot and damp, tinged with the scent of ash and damp stone. I flinch, barely, but even that slight movement feels like a scream in the stillness.

  It exhales once more, a low rumble vibrating from its throat like distant thunder. Then—it stops.

  The great beast stiffens, one ear flicking toward the trees beyond us. Its eyes narrow, and then, without warning, it lifts its head and lets out a sharp, clicking growl. A signal. Or maybe a warning.

  From deeper in the woods, something answers.

  A second screech—this one higher, shriller, more agitated—cuts through the night. The creature in front of me goes still, its head swiveling in that direction. It hesitates for only a moment before stepping away from the hollow. Leaves rustle as it moves, its powerful limbs silent against the mossy ground. I stay absolutely still, barely daring to blink.

  Then, as suddenly as it came, the creature is gone—its silhouette melting back into the trees, wings folding tightly against its sides as it disappears into the undergrowth. A moment ter, the only evidence of its presence is the crushed ferns where it stood, and the lingering heat in the air where it had exhaled.

  I remain crouched in the tree’s hollow, muscles trembling, breath shallow. My body aches from holding so still. But I don’t move. Not yet.

  A few minutes pass. Then ten.

  Only when the insects begin their rhythmic chorus again—when the world itself seems to exhale—do I finally uncurl myself and step cautiously from the tree.

  The clearing is empty.

  I look up at the sky. The stars are still watching, cool and distant, but somehow less mocking now. My knees are weak, and my heartbeat hasn’t quite settled, but I’m still here.

  Still breathing.

  And something deep in me shifts.

  This world—it’s not just magical. It’s dangerous.

  Whatever that creature was, it could have ended me. It didn’t.

  That means something. Maybe luck. Maybe mercy. Maybe it saw something in me and chose to let me go.

  Or maybe it didn’t think I was worth the trouble.

  Either way, I can't stay here. If there are more of them —whatever they are—I need to move before the next one finds me and isn’t feeling quite as generous.

  I gnce toward the direction it went. Toward the pce that second screech came from.

  Then the opposite way.

  Away.

  I take a deep breath, steady my legs, and begin walking.

  Every step I take is cautious, quiet. My eyes scan the forest ahead. My ears strain for every crackle of movement. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the lingering sweetness of the wildflowers, but I can’t let myself be distracted. I need to focus on finding a way out of this pce.