The hut appeared large on the exterior, but the inside defied physics. Scott and I walked down a path made of pavers the color of deep crimson rubies. The walls glimmered with flat stones sparkling the hue of a light aquamarine. I glanced up to the vaulted ceilings that, somehow, someone had painted an intricate mural of a wolven army fighting. Something sparkled as if winking at me. I realized the ceiling wasn’t painted; instead, gemstones created a picturesque war scene mosaic.

I looked at Scott, and he nodded. Past Scott, my sight lingered on the empty rows of simple wooden pews facing a statuesque golden throne. He led me to sit on the right side of the front-most bench. I didn’t expect the hardwood to be soft.

Scott mimed, ‘Stay.’
He positioned himself in front of the throne and bowed. His voice chanted in the same language I didn’t recognize. "Noe mae ta makoweo zitilque."

I peek back up to the glittering mural. Amazing. Soon my creative mind began playing tricks on me. The wolves moved, causing rubies to splash like a firework from a claw swipe or bite. Light blue wisps dripped from above, landing in the pews with a splat. In its place, people shimmered to life. Mesmerized by the layer of blue glass covering their bodies, I wanted to gasp, but I held it in. The people faced front with no expressions on their faces, but I saw the similarities to Scott in their features. His tribe stared back at me.

I looked back at Scott. He still bowed. Two large drops the size of a basketball fell onto the throne. I knew immediately that these two women were in charge, the Alphas. They lounged back in the golden cushions. Unlike the villagers, they did not have a shimmer to them. They didn’t look of glass. Their beauty awed me. Their skin looked like a pot of melted dark caramels with a tint of rose-colored undertones. The woman on the right had her long black hair braided in a bowl with light blue ribbons weaved throughout. Her eyes were dark and stern.

In contrast, the woman on the left had large natural silver and black curls. Her long earrings looked like flowers dripping from her ears to her shoulders. She had kind amber eyes similar to Scott’s. Both wore a tunic made of light blue lace that strategically covered certain spots but revealed everything else. They looked powerfully elegant.

“Healer.” I didn’t know their names, so I called her Braids in my head. Her deep voice rumbled past me. I turned. Dr. Frost, still in her white coat, walked towards the throne.

“Alphas.” Dr. Frost said as she bowed next to Scott.

“What are we to do with a human?” Alpha Braids asked.

“She survived on her own for a month in a tall building trapped with creatures unknown to her people with no instruction, no weapons, and no notice. The Goddess saw something of value in her.” Dr. Frost said while still bowing.

The woman on the right raised an eyebrow.

“How? She is skin and bones. Tell me, Child; how did you survive?” Her throaty voice pushed against me as physical pressure between my eyes. A sharp pain throbbed in my mind. I relived the days stuck in the building stalked by those monsters. Each day passed in a blink, but they stirred up the anxiety crowding my spine. They were days I wanted to forget. After thirty seconds, the agony subsided, leaving me gasping for breath and tears pouring down my cheeks.

“Very well. She may prove to be a tracker or hunter. She’s good at hiding, but what of her other skills? Before our final decision, she shall be tested.” Braids spoke. I fought hard not to grimace. Hunting. I couldn’t hunt. That would mean killing a living, breathing soul. It’s one thing to protect yourself or others, but to hunt. I shivered.

Alpha Braids looked to Scott. “My beloved expresses condolences for the loss of her family and home. It seems the Gods are testing the humans, and we may be next. We welcome this human for 12 moon cycles to honor our village with subsistence and knowledge, or until her Goddess blessed name is known.” A loud rumble echoed as the audience stomped their feet on the ground.

Scott, still bowing, waved me over. I bowed. Air breezed past my body, causing me to shiver again. The rumbling stopped. When we stood, the room was empty except for Dr. Frost, Scott, and myself. He slipped his hand in mine and made our way out in silence. The wolves sensed our approach. They moved just as our feet stepped over the threshold. Maybe I was dreaming or in a coma. Another more frightening thought bubbled up. What if I still lay in my closet, sleeping off my death?

I ignored where we walked, but my focus pulled to Scott when he stopped in front of a small thatched cabin. “This is a temporary home. Night’s almost here, and you have a long day tomorrow.” He brushed aside a stray lock of my dark brown curly hair. “I know it will be hard, but try to get some shut-eye. My aunt or I will wake you before your first day of training. You must have a million questions, and I promise I’ll answer them after your testing. I can’t stress this next part more. Please don’t leave the building after nightfall unless someone is with you. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“Good. I can’t come in, but make yourself at home. My aunt left you some food to snack on. Your stomach may be queasy tonight; therefore, I wouldn’t eat much or too fast. She also left you some clothes to sleep in and had someone clean them of dust. I’m rambling. Sorry. I should go.”

I nodded.

Scott moved to leave but then paused and turned back. “Oh, I forgot. There’s a protective charm on your temp quarters. Hold your breath and walk through the entryway without stopping when you step over the entryway. When you feel the release of pressure, you are on the other side.”

My brows furrowed.

“I guess I’m asking you to trust me again. I ask it too much. I’m sorry. You’ll be fine.” He rubbed my arms as if he were heating my skin. “I’ll stay until you are through.” He gave me a quick, chaste kiss on the forehead. He pressed gently to encourage me to the door. I took a deep breath holding as instructed. Pressure pushed my progress to a crawl until a pinch. The weight lifted; I opened an eye. I stood in a small studio-sized room. To the left, I found a nook with a single plain bed. The bunk also had a blanket made from some type of fur and a beige nightgown. I’m a tactile person. I got shivers when I touched it. A sense of sadness washed over me. I frowned.

I found a bookcase filled with different colored books, a small side table, and a rocking chair to the right of the door. Next to the chair, I located a basket filled with fruits of varying colors and shapes I didn’t recognize. My gut clenched. Maybe I’ll try a bit. I picked a plum-sized fruit; it was heavy for its size. The skin seemed more like a green grape than a plum. I took a small nibble. I found more tang than sweet. However, the more I ate, The skin tasted sweeter, and the juicy flesh danced on my taste buds with tangy goodness. Surprisingly, the food quenched my thirst and calmed my belly. I figured I shouldn’t tempt fate.

I walked over, slumping on the cot, which didn’t sink. A frightening thought wriggled into my consciousness. How safe was I, really? An undercurrent frayed my nerves. I looked out the door. Scott said I was secure, but as the shadows lengthened, my imagination loved playing games. Dusk fell fast.

It seemed weird people weren’t walking around at all. Maybe tomorrow? When I was younger, I remember praying to be alone. Now, here I was, wishing to see people alive wandering about their lives. The sun fell behind the other huts. The doorway darkened into a solid wall. No door. No windows. Maybe before all this started, I would have felt claustrophobic, but my hidey-hole cured me of those thoughts. Perhaps I was safe. I sighed. Tired of continually being hyper-vigilant and knowing nothing could enter gave me some relief. I ran my finger over a small emerald-shaped- light on the wall above my head. It reminded me of a nightlight of sorts. A dark emerald light washed over the room.

I decided not to change; the blanket creeped me out. Instead, I folded and placed the fur on the rocking chair. I’m not sure why, but I needed it to be as far away from me as I could. I chose to use the dressing gown as a light covering in its place as I certainly didn’t want to sleep under someone’s skin.

Trying to relax wasn’t immediate; the silence was jarring. As far back as I could remember, I always heard the sounds of the city. In Chicago, I slept to the clacking of the creature’s paws on the tile. The base sounded busy with people running around and the occasional gunshots. Blocked out, the bird’s and cricket’s songs were silent. I was cradled in quiet. I sighed as slumber found me. But it wasn’t a dreamless rest; it was a nightmare.

Darkened purple trees swayed in the angry wind. Its thrashing branches bleed with the innocent I had tried to protect. All I felt was failure. I ran, silent and swift as a mouse. My frame was much smaller than everyone else, so I had to be innovative. I had to think outside the box. Leaves scratched my face drawing new blood for the gods thanks to my detour through a thorny brush. I kept running until the forest widened to the circle. A lone pink rose-like flower marked the very center.

An androgynous fighter appeared across from me, mirroring my movements. Their skin looked dipped in matte midnight-colored paint obscuring their face. Their amber eyes sized me up. Their body trained over a lifetime to be more robust and agile. I was out of their league as a weak, puny human. I only had one option that I could think of, and it was a shitty idea.

I moved to attempt to sweep my opponent’s legs. With long talons, they swiped at my abs and arms. I screamed. I cupped my hand over the large gash as rubies fell between my fingers—pain shot through my body. Puss bubbled out like acid obliterating the rubies. The smell of putrid decaying flesh made me vomit. I heard a ‘tsk’ before a decisive blow of claws sliced through my neck. I didn’t have a chance.

Every time the scene would recycle back to the beginning of the dream, but it was slightly different in the fight. Every time, the fighter would make quick work of my untrained ass, and the familiar shot of aches became more frustrating than anything else. I started grabbing branches and trying to fashion makeshift weapons. Each time I might get further into the fight, but frustratingly it always ended in misery.