Volume 3—Chapter 41: Encounter
Where am I?
That was the first thought that drifted through my head as I slowly opened my eyes.
The ceiling above me was unfamiliar—smooth, pale stone lined with ornate carvings that looked ancient, almost sacred. A soft glow came from floating crystals embedded in the walls. Wherever I was, it clearly wasn’t a normal room.
“Oh… our little princess is waking up.”
A calm, silky voice rang beside me.
I turned my head, still groggy, and found myself looking into the blue eyes of a woman. Her features were sharp and graceful, almost too perfect to be real. Long, golden hair framed her face, and two pointed ears peeked out from beneath it.
An elf.
A real elf, like the ones from fantasy movies. No cosplay, no makeup—this one was the real deal.
My wrists ached. I looked down.
Ropes. Tight ones.
“Feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” she asked, her voice still gentle.
“Yeah. In my wrists,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Can you untie me?”
She smiled and completely ignored my request.
“Let’s see…” she continued, tapping something on a crystal tablet. “Name: Syena Fiolera. Both parents deceased. Currently living with relatives—though it seems the relationship is… strained.”
I tensed.
She kept reading. “Former child actress. Actually, still active. You’re twelve years old. Your last audition was four months ago, and—”
“Alright, that’s enough,” I snapped. “You’re creeping me out.”
She turned away from me, addressing the tall, dark-blonde man standing in the shadows behind her.
“Remind me again… why did we kidnap her?”
The man casually sipped from a steaming mug of coffee. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp—calculating.
“She’s the one,” he said simply. “I’m sure of it.”
“The one?” the elf repeated, raising an eyebrow. “The one what?”
“The fate… or simply… the Writer.”
I blinked.
What the hell were they talking about?
The man’s eyes locked onto mine. He looked like he wanted to say something—but before he could—
“Are you insane?” the elf snapped, stepping in front of him. “She clearly doesn’t know anything. You can see it in her eyes!”
“She is the one,” he insisted, not backing down. “And I can prove it.”
“Then prove it!” the elf barked.
A heavy silence fell between them.
Meanwhile, I sat there, tied up and caught in the middle of whatever weird conspiracy this was.
“The hell did I wake up into…” I muttered.
The two still bicker, their voices growing sharper by the second. It was like I’d completely vanished from their reality—just background noise to their argument.
Perfect.
This is my chance…
I glanced down at my wrists again. I wasn’t sure if it was luck, a mistake on their part, or just pure arrogance—but the knot was sloppy. Sloppy enough that with a few deliberate twists and tugs, I felt the tension start to give.
They hadn’t tied me properly.
I worked fast, making small, careful movements so I wouldn’t draw attention. The rope loosened more and more, until—
Snap.
My right hand slipped free, and seconds later, the left followed.
I was untied.
Now what?
I looked around the room quickly, heart pounding. There—a door on the far side.
No good. If it was locked, I’d waste precious seconds fumbling with it. That kind of mistake would get me caught.
My eyes darted to the window.
Wide open. A cool breeze drifted through it, rustling the curtains. Outside, tree branches swayed gently in the wind, close enough to give me a good guess: this room was on the second floor. Not too high. Definitely survivable.
Assuming I didn’t land on my face.
I turned back to check on the two—still arguing like a married couple on a bad day.
Good. Still distracted.
Without a second thought, I bolted across the room, adrenaline surging. My bare feet hit the polished floor silently, and in one fluid motion, I leapt toward the window.
But what met my eyes wasn’t the ground rushing up to meet me.
It was air.
Open, empty, terrifying air.
The tree I’d spotted earlier? It was growing from the side of a cliff.
What—
I wasn’t on the second floor—I was on the edge of a cliff.
The ground below wasn’t a few meters down. It was dozens of meters away, a forest floor so far beneath me it looked like a painting.
Oh crap—oh crap oh crap oh crap—
Wind rushed past me as my stomach lurched. The kind of drop that made you question every life decision you’d ever made—including jumping out of a perfectly good window without checking the view.
I twisted mid-air, arms flailing, desperate to grab anything—a branch, a vine, divine intervention—
And then I saw it. A thick branch jutting out from the cliff’s side, just barely within reach.
Don’t think—just move!
I reached out with everything I had—
Then—I grabbed something.
It wasn’t rough like bark. Not solid like a branch.
It was… soft? Warm?
A hand?
Before I could even process that, I heard a calm, amused voice above me.
“Oh my… what do we have here?”
I opened my eyes mid-fall—expecting sky, maybe death—but instead saw a girl hovering effortlessly in the air. She had shimmering silver hair that sparkled in the sun like stardust and sharp golden eyes that gleamed with mischief. Her dark cloak fluttered dramatically in the wind, and atop her head sat a classic pointed witch hat. The cherry on top?
She was sitting on a flying broom.
What the actual hell…
“Hold tight,” she said smoothly before yanking me upward like I weighed nothing at all.
The broom dipped slightly with the added weight, but she shifted her balance with practiced ease. In seconds, I was straddling the broom behind her, gripping her waist with shaky hands as we soared away from the cliffside.
I couldn't speak.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because my brain was still buffering.
My entire day had gone from “being kidnapped” to “gravity betrayal” to “rescued by flying witch girl” in under five minutes.
She chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at me with a smirk. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My mouth opened, but my brain hadn't caught up yet.
She didn’t seem to mind.
“Well… to be precise, you’re not from this world,” she added, tone light as if she were commenting on the weather.
My expression must’ve screamed WHAT?!, because she laughed again.
“That confused look is so cute. You remind me of someone I know.”
She turned fully now, somehow steering the broom with her legs alone. Her eyes narrowed with interest. “Tell me… what’s your name?”
I swallowed hard. “Uh… Syena. Syena Fiolera.”
At the sound of my name, her brows lifted in recognition. For the first time, she looked genuinely surprised.
“Fiolera?” she repeated. “No wonder… This must be fate.”
Fate? What does that mean?
And why did her smile suddenly look so much more serious?
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