Chapter 1
So far, my vacation had been absolutely delightful. I’d been ducking in and out of shops and strolling along busy streets, soaking in the sights. Having time off from work and students felt heavenly. It was a blast to immerse myself in the local culture and explore all the stunning locations Italy had to offer. Although I loved my job as a professor at MIT, there was nothing quite as blissful as a vacation in a beautiful country. I was one week into my trip to Italy, savoring the vibrant streets, picturesque views, and perfect weather.
Exploring the town and absorbing the culture had been so much fun. Even though I was traveling alone, it didn’t stop me from enjoying myself. Being 25 and an MIT professor didn’t leave much time for dating, so I’d stopped waiting for a guy to sweep me off my feet and take me to a faraway land. Instead, I decided to go on my own. My life had been pretty hectic up until now, and I felt like I deserved some time to unwind.
I had started at MIT as a student and graduated as one of their youngest at just 17. But nothing compared to the honor of being offered a teaching job there at the age of 23. I’d had a rocky start in life, but things were finally turning around, and for once, fortune seemed to be on my side. I lost both my parents when I was young and spent much of my childhood in and out of the foster system. I was a bit of an oddball, and people didn’t always know how to relate to me. Having an eidetic memory and a high IQ didn’t exactly make childhood any easier, either.
I don’t want to blame the foster system, but I do think that if they had recognized my potential earlier, my youth might have been very different. I was so different from the other kids my age, and it made fitting in incredibly difficult. It wasn’t until a teacher noticed my abilities and recommended I attend a special school that things began to improve.
Now, as an adult, my life was fantastic. I taught three classes a week to fellow nerds, and the rest of my time was spent in the labs. But despite all of that, the urge to see more of the world only grew stronger. I had always put off traveling because I didn’t have a boyfriend or close friend to go with. Sure, I had friends, but they were mostly coworkers and acquaintances—people I couldn’t just casually invite to join me on a trip. I knew I needed to try harder in the friend department, but being an introvert, the fear of rejection, and the anxiety of people thinking I was weird (like in my youth) still haunted me.
I also really loved my work, and it kept me incredibly busy. I’m the type of person who goes all in when I’m passionate about something, so most weekends, I’d find myself buried in projects.
I had several ongoing projects that were nearing completion, and some of them were poised to make a real difference in the world. The one I was most proud of was a revolutionary solar collector design. It could generate ten times more electricity than a typical full-scale collector, all while being the size of an A4 piece of paper. I was in the process of patenting it, and the paperwork was now in the hands of my lawyers, who were working on getting the wording just right to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the design once it hit the market.
Big companies were already offering me significant amounts of money for my designs and the rights to patent them. But my motivation wasn’t wealth—it was to help people. That’s why I decided to patent it myself, giving me control over manufacturing and pricing when it was ready. I wanted this to be an affordable, meaningful solution for clean energy. I’d rather sell these collectors at nearly cost price and help the world than become rich off the invention, knowing it wouldn’t reach the people who needed it most.
But for now, with the patent process taking some time, I decided to treat myself to a well-earned two-month vacation.
One week into my trip and I was determined to experience all that Italy had to offer. I’d already visited several stunning sights, and today, I planned to enjoy some well-deserved shopping. Around 6 p.m., I returned to my hotel room to drop off the bags I had collected during my shopping spree. I was staying at a small, charming hotel near the beach. After a quick shower, I changed into some fresh clothes and headed out again, eager to find a nice restaurant for dinner.
I slipped on a pair of low-heeled boots to complement my leather-look leggings. They had been too hot to wear during the day but were perfect for the cooler evening. I paired them with a black, fitted shirt and an emerald green, see-through oversized blouse I had bought earlier. The blouse had long, flowy sleeves and came down just above my knees. I could have worn it as a short dress, but with the temperature dropping in the evening, I added the leggings for comfort. I cinched the outfit with a simple black metal chain belt to accentuate my figure, added some of my favorite jewelry, and I was ready for my night out.
I loved walking along the shoreline at night, staring up at the stars. Their beauty was awe-inspiring—something I rarely got to experience in the city, where the stars are often dulled by the lights. But here, along the dark beach, they were like precious jewels scattered across the sky. I couldn’t wait to see them again tonight.
After grabbing my essentials—phone, wallet, and the like—I stepped out of the hotel. It only took about five minutes to walk to the beach. I planned to take a short walk along the shoreline and, when hunger struck, head to the promenade to pick a restaurant for dinner.
While walking near the water, I briefly considered taking off my shoes to feel the cool water on my feet but decided to save that for after dinner. I didn’t want to deal with sand in my shoes during the meal.
As I strolled along the beach, my stomach began to growl, reminding me it was time to find a restaurant. As I turned back toward the promenade, still gazing at the stars, I suddenly noticed something strange.
In front of me on the sand was a stray beer can. Normally, litter didn’t catch my attention, but this was different. The metal of the can was reflecting an eerie green glow. There was hardly any light on the beach, just the moonlight and a faint glow from the promenade. So, what was causing this unusual glow?
Curious, I approached the can and was shocked to see a green halo floating midair just below eye level. It looked surreal, almost like a miniature aurora borealis suspended in the air. The odd thing was that I hadn’t noticed the glow from a distance. Only when I saw it reflected off the can and got closer did the light become visible. The closer I got, the brighter and clearer the light became. It was so intense now that it should have been visible from far away. It made no sense at all.
I inched closer until there were about ten centimeters between me and the light. I took out my phone and started filming. I was getting quite excited, worked up even, over this strange phenomenon. Being well-versed in science, I couldn't understand what could be creating this light.
I checked almost every angle, trying to determine the source. I speculated that it might be projected from a certain point, giving the illusion that it was floating midair—like some sort of hologram. But as I passed my hand around the light, that theory quickly fell apart. If it were a projection, my hand would have blocked it at some point, casting a shadow or disrupting the glow entirely.
Something even stranger happened as I moved my hand around the light. The closer I got, the warmer the air became. I was still filming, and as I focused on the image on my screen, I noticed something unusual. The light on the display looked different from what I saw with my own eyes. On the screen, there was a brighter spot at the center of the glowing mass—something floating within the green radiance. It seemed like it might be the very source of the light itself.
"Well, it's definitely there," I muttered to myself, once again reaching out to touch the outermost part of the small nebula of light. The warmth emanating from it still surprised me.
Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming urge to push my hand further into the phenomenon. Before I had fully processed what I was doing, my fingers had already reached toward the bright spot I had seen on my phone screen. The heat increased noticeably, but it wasn’t painful. My hand was now so close—just behind the glowing center. Even without my phone, I could see it clearly now, contrasted against my skin.
It was a small, triangular-shaped gem, floating in a halo of green light. It was mesmerizing. A grin spread across my face as it reminded me of a miniature Zelda Triforce piece—only green. It was about a centimeter in size, and the urge to touch it became overwhelming. Wanting to know what it was, and feeling nothing but gentle warmth, I let my hand close around it.
There was a sudden darkness where the light had been, a warm glow spreading through my arm. The heat increased rapidly, becoming more painful by the second. Fear surged through me as I tried to open my hand, but I couldn’t. A massive surge pulsed through the air, like a silent explosion, and I felt myself being flung backward. There was no time to brace for the impact I knew was coming—the hard, cold sand of the beach awaited me. But instead of hitting the sand as expected, I felt only an endless falling sensation. It was strange; the ground should have been only seconds away.
Suddenly, I realized that instead of darkness, everything around me was bright—daylight bright. Panic rising, I tried to look around, to grab onto something to break my fall, but I was moving too fast. Green shapes blurred past, scratching and bumping against my skin. Snapping sounds echoed as branches broke under my descent, but then—
Pain.
I slammed into the ground hard. My head struck something solid, and a searing pain shot through my skull before my world went black.
The first thing I noticed was a cold shiver running down my body. I tried to sit up but was met with a wave of nausea and stabbing pain. I collapsed back onto the ground, wincing as every part of me ached. The worst of it, though, was the fiery pulse of pain in my skull. I lifted a trembling hand to the back of my head, feeling a large bump and warm, sticky liquid. I pulled my hand away, and even in the dim light, I could tell it was covered in blood.
I took a moment, letting the pain settle before attempting to move again. Slowly, carefully, I pushed myself into a sitting position. As I took in my surroundings, my situation sank in.
I was in a forest.
Massive green trees surrounded me, their towering forms ancient and imposing. Thick foliage spread in every direction, and large moss-covered rocks jutted out from the undergrowth. A shiver wracked my body again, reminding me of the biting cold. How long had I been here? The remnants of my clothing, shredded and tattered, did nothing to protect me from the chill.
Why was it so cold?
Why was I in a forest?
“What the hell is going on?!” I cried, my voice swallowed by the vast silence.
Only the sounds of nature answered me.
The shiver deepened into uncontrollable shaking. I needed to move—I needed warmth. Testing my limbs, I managed to stand, though my body protested in agony. Dizziness swirled through my head, forcing me to steady myself against a nearby tree.
“What the hell is happening?” I murmured, more to myself than anything else. I forced myself to think. “Think, goddammit! Think!”
What was the last thing I remembered?
I searched my mind for answers, but all I found was a blank void.
Panic seized my chest, my breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps. I tried again, desperately clawing at the empty spaces in my memory, but there was nothing. My lungs burned as hyperventilation took hold, darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. I was going to pass out—
No! I forced myself to breathe, dragging in slow, deep gulps of air. My body trembled violently, but at least I was still conscious. Tears blurred my vision, hot streaks sliding down my frozen cheeks.
“Stop this!” I screamed at myself. “This isn’t helping! You’re alone, freezing, and you’re going to die if you don’t get your shit together!”
The ridiculous pep talk actually helped. It refocused me, forcing me to ignore the pain in favor of survival. The first thing I needed to do was move. The temperature was dropping fast, the last rays of sunlight slipping below the horizon. It was getting dark fast, and I needed direction.
I scanned the area, and my eyes landed on something familiar—my phone and purse, lying near the base of a tree. Relief surged through me as I stumbled over and grabbed them. My phone was still on, its screen cracked but functioning. It was still recording. I made a mental note to check the footage later in hopes of finding some answers.
For now, I dialed the emergency number in my contacts, but my brief hope was crushed by a soul-crushing beep.
No signal.
Tears welled in my eyes again, but I bit them back. Helplessness simmered into frustration, then anger. I shut off the phone and shoved it back into my purse. My head throbbed, my muscles ached, but I had no choice—I had to keep moving. I needed to find help.
I took a deep breath, scanning the trees around me. The moss clung to one side of their trunks, growing toward the direction that received the most sunlight—a natural compass I could use to navigate. As night began to settle, stars emerged in the darkening sky, scattering like distant beacons. I chose the brightest one that aligned with the moss and set it as my guiding light. With each step, I hoped the movement would chase away the lingering cold.
The forest was treacherous to navigate, especially as darkness deepened around me. Every few steps, I stumbled—my balance thrown off by the persistent dizziness from my head injury. After what felt like my hundredth fall, it finally occurred to me to use my phone’s flashlight.
By then, my arms and legs were scraped raw, bruises already forming beneath my torn clothing. A deep gash marred my left palm, blood dripping steadily from where I had caught myself on a jagged rock.
I pressed on, forcing myself forward despite the throbbing pain. Nearly forty-five minutes into my struggle through the dense undergrowth, a sound cut through the stillness.
Voices.
I froze, straining to listen. Then, another noise—low and distant. A howl. Eerie, drawn out, and unlike anything I had ever heard before.
Hope surged in my chest. I wasn’t alone.
Ignoring the exhaustion weighing down my limbs, I quickened my pace, pushing past tangled roots and thick brush. The voices grew louder, guiding me toward a break in the trees. As I reached the edge of a clearing, the sight before me stole my breath.
A massive tree stood at its center, its ancient form stretching toward the heavens. Its branches cascaded like those of a weeping willow, but instead of just leaves, deep purple flowers hung in delicate clusters, glowing faintly in the dark. The soft luminescence painted the clearing in an otherworldly light, making the entire scene feel unreal.
But my awe was short-lived.
Near the base of the tree stood three people.
And a wolf.
Not just any wolf—a beast nearly twice the size of a human.
The massive wolf stood on all fours, its head level with the tallest of the three individuals. Its ears lay flat against its skull, a deep, pained growl rumbling from its throat. It was obvious that it was wounded.
One of the figures, a woman, gripped a ribbon-like leash wrapped tightly around the creature’s neck. With a sharp yank, she secured it to the base of the tree.
The wolf let out a choked yelp of agony.
I stiffened, horror washing over me. How could they treat a wounded creature this way? My fists clenched involuntarily as I listened to its barely restrained whimpers.
Then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the people turned and left, disappearing into the darkness.
The wolf remained—bound and suffering.
I sucked in a breath. Did he really understand me?
“Do you understand me?” I asked.
Again, the wolf nodded.
“If you understand me, blink once and nod twice.”
Without fail, the wolf did exactly as I asked.
As if this whole scenario couldn’t get any stranger, I couldn’t help but think—there was no way this was a normal wolf.
“There is something in your wound. Is it okay for me to touch you and look at it?” I asked.
Again, just a simple nod.
With shaking hands, I placed my palm near the wound. “This will hurt, but I need to pull it out. Is that okay?”
Another nod.
I braced myself, gripped the object, and yanked.
Pain and power surged through me in an instant, overwhelming my senses. My vision blurred, my body sagging against the wolf’s soft fur. The last thing I felt before unconsciousness took me was warmth—an otherworldly, pulsing heat consuming me whole.
Then, darkness.