I’ve always told myself that hiking would be a bad idea since I very much dislike exercise, and I was correct. This is absolute torture, I thought to myself wearily. I could almost feel the blisters forming under my feet as I wander aimlessly through what seemed to be a never ending forest. The leaves at least made me feel better, with how they crunched under my feet every time, which gave me good tingles. I glanced around helplessly, grumbling to myself under my breath. 

   “How did this even happen? Last time I checked the closest forest is miles away from my house. Not to mention, I never even go outside.” I complained to myself, as if it would make me feel better. But in all honesty, I just sounded more delirious. 

I think to myself for a bit, closing my eyes in thought as I walk. I already want to go back home. I miss my bed, and my adorable dog. I miss my moms cooking and my dads jokes. I sighed to myself, feeling a pit form in my stomach as my arms felt heavy.

     Suddenly, a twig snapped behind me, and I jumped and shrieked louder than I meant to, stumbling, tripping on a tree root, and falling face forward in shock. I cursed loudly, rubbing my now sore nose. I glanced back to see what even made that noise in the first place, only to see a shiny silvery sword right in front of my nose. 

  Like the brave and courageous girl I am, I squeaked pathetically and scrambled back, only to find my back against the tree.

“He-Hey….! What the hell do you think you’re doing!? Back off, you pri—! “I looked up to glare at whoever was at the other end of the sword, only to pause and go blank.

Wow, that was the longest hair she’s ever seen on a man. Or at least she would assume with how his jawline looks sharper than any kitchen knife she’s seen her mom use when making dinner. 

Above me, the mysterious man had long black hair that looked made from pure silk, with cold, dark, matching black eyes thst were as pure as obsidian. Man this guy was obsessed with black, huh? She thought to herself in the back of her head. Everything he had was black, except for those white feathers on his shoulder pads. Come to think of it, why is this guy even wearing armor? I didn’t think any kind of convention was happening anywhere near this inescapable forest.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by the sudden reminder that strangely dressed man had a literal sword to my neck. I yelped when I felt the cold metal tilt my chin, forcing me to look up. For the first time, the man spoke, his voice rough, like sandpaper. I tried my best not to squirm under the cold glare. He looks like he works in customer service or something with how sour his face is. I thought, and I had to force the giggle from my throat down.

“Are you a spy for the Empress?” He spoke smoothly and lowly, pushing the sword deeper into my neck. I flinched, feeling a small sting in my throat and my eyes.

….

…….

……….

….?..

….??????……

“What the hell are you talking about you freak show?” *she deadpannned, narrowing her eyes at the tall man. Maybe she should talk much nicer to the man literally threatening her life, but she was confused as hell and her will to live seemed to disappear in this moment of disbelief.

The man did not like that. His lips curled into a dissatisfied frown, his eyes darkening as he took a step forward and pressed the sword closer. I tried my best to remain silent, not letting a single noise escape my lips, except for the ragged breaths of my lungs.

“Do not speak that way to me filthy woman. Tell me the truth and you’ll be free to live. Now tell me, are you a spy for the Empress, yes or no?” He repeated, this time pushing the heel of his armored foot into my chest, making me choke for air.

I managed to speak up, my voice a raspy grumble. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, psycho…!” 

The man didn’t seem to believe me, but he still removed his foot from my chest and lowered his sword just a bit, letting me finally embrace a big breath of air. Sometimes I wonder if I really have asthma or not, like my brother. But that’s probably not what I should be focusing on.  

“Are you truly unaware of what I am saying, wench?” The man raised his brow, leaning forward as if to inspect me. He glanced at my clothing, both his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, you moron. And can you stop calling me names?! It’s irritating.” I huffed, staggering to get to my feet. 

There was a pause of silence as I regained my breath and leaned against the tree for support. Then, the man sighed and bowed his head in apology.

“I apologize then. I should’ve realized that someone who seemed physically inactive and incapable would not be fit for spying. Please forgive my insolence, but I’ve been on edge since the recent attacks from the Black Dove clan.” The man murmured, still giving me a strange look. For some reason, his words only annoyed me even more, as I resisted the urge to slap him. I’d rather not have my ribs broken.

“Yeah, whatever, jerk.” I grumbled, dusting off the dirt and leaves stuck in my hair and pants. 

A pause, and then the confused questioning from the man. “What…..are you wearing…..?”

“What are you talking about you oaf—?” I paused, glancing down at my clothes. I was wearing a t shirt from an animated cartoon I used to watch as a kid, the character doing some kind of pose with the name under the character. I wore black sweatpants and a old baggy zip up sweater that I’ve had for years, with black vans that had been long worn out. “Uh….clothing? You know, like t-shirts and sweatpants?” I sputtered in confusion, giving him a weird look.

The mama confusion only increased, his brows furrowing more. “T……shirts? I’m afraid I don’t understand. You call those sweat pants, but I see no evidence of any sweat on it.”

……

…..

What.

“Are you stupid? Did you lose a chromosome during birth or something?” I deadpanned, narrowing my eyes at him. I ignored the grumble from the man to think over this.

Okay, so this man is clueless about clothing…..and he wears some kind of armor like a cosplayer or actor. Just think this over. How do we usually collect our thoughts? I paused for a moment.

A second.

Then another.

“What in the name of almighty Faeya are you doing?”  The man asked in exasperation as I began to walk in circles around the tree, my eyes closed in thought.

“Shut up, I’m thinking.”

“Looks more like dark magic…”

Will you shut up!?”

“???????????? ?????….”

Despite my curiosity for what exactly he said, I dismissed it and thought over this carefully. If he didn’t know what modern day clothes are, does that mean I’m in the past? I glanced over him, taking in his features. Then I paused, going rigid.

“What is it now, woman?” The man grumbled, probably annoyed with my staring.

“Your ears.”

…..

“What about them?” 

……

“Why in the name of Jesus are they as pointy as the knife I use to butter my toast?” I deadpanned, speaking a bit louder than I intended.

“Why are your ears as round as the spoons I use to eat my solyanka?” He retorted back, his lips turned down in an annoyed frown.

He had a fair point. I thought to myself as I stared. Okay, so this was some kind of Narnia situation?? I clicked my tongue, then asked as bluntly as I could.

“Are you a cosplayer?”

…..

“What is this, “cosplayer” you speak of?”

Yup. Definitely a Narnia situation.