When Hannah and I crossed the barrier, we arrived at what could only be described as a jungle… but different.
The sensation was clear: there was more magic in the air. As soon as we entered, we saw an enormous variety of magical plants, much more abundant than those in the jungle we knew. Some were even completely unknown to us.
The cultist we had been following had vanished. There was no trace of him; I didn't even sense his presence nearby. I touched the edge of the barrier we had just stepped through and felt a confusing vibration, a spatial distortion. I sent a clone to test it; upon exiting, he appeared at a completely different point in the outer forest, and upon re-entering, he appeared miles away from our position. The barrier was a randomized labyrinth: every crossing spat you out in a random location.
"Well, looks like we'll have to do some old-fashioned fieldwork," I told Hannah.
"I'm ready," she replied, gripping her wand with a determination that made me smile.
We ventured into that immense thicket. The place was so fascinating that we nearly veered off our main objective. The concentration of mana was such that Hannah felt revitalized; her spells flowed with astonishing ease and a potency she had never experienced. For my part, I noticed the improvement, but it was minimal; my level had already transcended the "buff" of this ecosystem.
However, the wonder soon gave way to unease. The place was a geographical chaos. The magic was so unstable that it caused erratic phenomena: suddenly time seemed to slow down, the ground beneath our feet mutated, or we found ourselves in a clearing that wasn't there a second ago. It wasn't natural; if it were, the fauna would have adapted. Here, something was breaking the balance.
The creatures stalking us—animals and plants alike—were in a state of frenzied aggression. But it wasn't hunger I saw in their eyes; it was nervousness, an unbearable tension. Something at the heart of this jungle was driving them mad. We walked for hours, losing track of time, but we discovered that in this place, days must last much longer than on the outside.
As dusk fell, a thick, coppery light bathed the treetops. I signaled Hannah to stay close to my back; my senses had just detected an anomaly. In that instant, the jungle exploded.
A snake with glassy scales leaped from a branch, fangs aimed at Hannah's neck. I repelled it with a quick spell, but that was just the start. A boar with bristly fur charged from the undergrowth; while I diverted it, an unusually large rat scurried between our feet trying to bite my ankles, until Hannah kicked it away with an instinctive strike.
Sharp-feathered parrots, giant spiders, metallic-skinned lizards, rodents, and predators of all kinds began to converge on us in a frenzied tide. We repelled them one after another, but I refused to kill them. There was something about them that intrigued me—something special.
After forcing them to bite the dust, immobilizing them with threads of magic that left them prostrate on the ground, I stepped closer to inspect them.
"This is... unusual," I murmured, scanning first one of the birds, then a rodent, and finally a snake.
"What did you find?" Hannah asked, keeping her wand raised and scanning the brush, alert to any movement.
"These aren't simple animals," I said, standing up.
"They aren't?" she asked, confused.
"Well, they are, but only in appearance. They are Maledictuses," I said with genuine interest.
"Male-dic-tuses...?" Hannah frowned; it wasn't a term she remembered.
"Humans who carry a blood curse," I explained. "They transform into animals, but over time they lose control over the change until they are trapped in that form forever, losing their trace of humanity. What's strange is seeing so many together and so diverse. Perhaps they are cast away here, or this place acts as a magnet for their kind... though the sheer number astounds me. I doubt there are this many Maledictuses in the entire world in our time."
Hannah didn't know how to respond, but her eyes filled with immediate compassion as she looked at the creatures. Knowing that beneath those furs and scales were once people trapped moved her.
"Is there any way to cure them?" she asked, hoping I had a miracle solution up my sleeve.
"None known, but I can try something later," I replied as I wrapped the unconscious animals in my magic and teleported them directly to the [Fief]. They were valuable test subjects. "Let's move on."
I resumed the march but sent a mental [Message] to Hannah:
[We're being watched. Stay close.]
I had detected a presence lurking in the shadows, a gaze studying us while I examined the animals. It didn't feel powerful—barely like a muggle—but its energy signature was distinct. We kept walking normally, feigning ignorance while one of my clones handled the capture.
Shortly after, we stopped in front of a peculiar individual my clone had just intercepted. He was kneeling, trembling violently, and not daring to look up. My aura, even contained, was overwhelming for him... or her.
"Is it... a jaguar-child?" Hannah asked, amazed.
"Something like that," I replied uncertainly, inspecting him with a clinical eye.
Shrinking before us was a small humanoid figure, similar in height to a first-year Hogwarts student. He looked like an anthropomorphic jaguar, covered in dense, short fur with characteristic ocellated spots. His face was feline, though slightly flatter than that of a wild jaguar. His hands, though ending in claws and having pads, possessed a bone structure that allowed them to manipulate objects with the dexterity of a primate.
The most fascinating part was his head. He didn't have the pointed ears one would expect; instead, he possessed a sort of natural hood of skin and fur originating from his nape and shoulders, giving him the look of a jungle monk or, more disturbingly, a cobra. This hood could retract slightly at the sides, revealing almost humanoid ears hidden on the sides of his head.
He was an intelligent magical creature, a fact confirmed by the sparse clothing and the rudimentary spear he carried, and by the fact that he could speak. His voice was high-pitched, a mixture of hisses and guttural meows.
"Don't... don't hurt me..." he pleaded, stuttering against the ground in a shrill voice.
Thanks to the translation equipment we had been perfecting, we could understand him without trouble. He was an extremely perceptive species; he felt the weight of my power, and that kept him in a state of absolute terror.
Hannah scolded me in a low voice when she saw me intimidating what she considered a child—though I knew he was simply an adult of a small species. After I released some tension and assured him I had no intention of eating him or whatever he feared, the dread gave way to a more common conversation.
We learned that his village was nearby and that his people were suffering because of the cultists. Without hesitation, we set out toward their settlement. That little scout would be our key to entering the heart of the forbidden territory.
It didn't take long to reach their settlement. The village was a primitive and beautiful sight: a network of huts built both at ground level and in the canopies of immense, ancient trees. In a way, the architecture was reminiscent of the Wookiee villages from the movies, but with a much more rustic and tribal finish.
Hannah and I stopped for a moment to admire the scene. Dozens of jaguar-men moved along the wooden walkways. They all shared that small stature that made them look like children; men, women, and offspring—the latter even smaller—wore those natural fur hoods that gave them the appearance of rogues or thieves from a fantasy game.
Due to the similar height among them and their markedly animal features, it was hard to tell them apart at first glance. Distinguishing adolescents from elders was only possible if you saw them moving slowly or leaning on canes. Other clues were the fading of the fur or barely visible wrinkles.
In the women, the distinction was a bit easier due to their breasts, though they were small and discreet. Hannah hadn't been wrong: the description of "jaguar-children" was the one that best fit their physical reality.
Our arrival caused a wave of terror in the small community, which didn't seem to exceed a hundred inhabitants. Women carried their young and disappeared into the shadows of the trees; elders hid behind reed doors. Only a few brave souls stepped forward with wooden spears, but they appeared more adorable than intimidating in front of us.
I stopped them effortlessly. By releasing my aura in a controlled manner, I managed to calm their primal instincts. They possessed a curious mix of civilized intellect and animal reflexes, and my power acted like a balm. It was so effective that, in a short time, several of them had moved from fear to absolute submission. Perhaps I overdid it, because some were already rubbing their heads against my hands as if they were puppies.
Soon after we were talking to the leaders in the biggest thing of all in a tree, listening to them and learning.
This "world" apart was, in reality, a secret realm that was part of Earth, but hidden. At one time it had been part of the whole, but that changed with the fall of the gods. The entrances and exits were reduced, the realm itself decayed, and it lost its grandeur over the centuries.
Perhaps it was an ancient divine kingdom. Perhaps it was part of a world fueled by the same energy the gods used.
They didn't know.
Their species barely lived sixty years. And their situation had been dire for a long time. They had no written records, only oral tradition.
They were a lineage on the brink of extinction. Their world was being consumed, its magic exhausted, and when this land vanished, they would die with it, or flee to another place where they would likely die anyway. They weren't strong enough to face new predators, and their birth rate was low and slow.
They weren't warriors, but trackers and light hunters; peaceful beings by nature. They had no future.
The total absence of records about them in the future was silent proof of their destiny. We couldn't give them encouraging words… without lying to them.
And as if that weren't enough, they weren't just facing natural selection. They were also facing the cultists.
In this mysterious world lay the place we were looking for: the temple that had been activated this year.
Cultists arrived. They destroyed. They corrupted.
Many creatures had been hunted for sacrifice. Even the temple itself was absorbing the little remaining energy from this world, accelerating its disappearance.
The tribe had lost members fighting them. That was why they decided to hide. To distance themselves from everything "human."
The fact that they found us was a mixture of luck… and an instinctive need to seek help. Within my being resides the essence of Elise, her magic, and her divine power. And she was a goddess of benevolent nature.
This tribe came from times when gods still walked among mortals. So, by genetics and instinct, they felt drawn to me.
Of course… I wasn't Elise. And their reaction was just echoes of behaviors inherited from a distant past.
That's why, when they found me…
What happened was expected: Fear, pleading, or confrontation.
Perhaps if it had been the real Elise… it would have been different.