Lyor squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for pain. Instead, he felt something firm under his shoulders and legs, and within a few seconds, his back met the ground. Something soft cushioned him.
Then he heard a strained, "Meow."
His eyes flew open. He scrambled upright and froze.
A cat lay on the ground exactly where he had fallen.
I fell on a cat…?
Panic surged through him at the thought that he might have crushed the poor creature. With shaking fingers, he placed his palm gently over the brown-and-ash fur, right above its heart.
"Thank God. It's beating." He did not even realize he had said it out loud.
The cat opened its bleary eyes but did not move.
"I'll take you to a vet, okay?" he whispered. His hand hovered, afraid to press down, afraid to hurt it more or scare it. "I won't hurt you. Let me pick you up."
The animal seemed too weak even to hiss or scratch, and that frightened him more than anything. He could not let another life be lost because of him.
Carefully, he lifted the cat and secured it against his chest, wrapping it in a protective hold. Only then did he glance around.
Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die.
He did not recognize anything.
The last place he remembered was the bathroom, the stench of the gas, and pain in his chest. Now he stood in a forest, with no phone, no wallet, nothing.
How did I get here? How am I supposed to find a vet in a forest?
He hugged the cat closer and started walking. A strange weakness spread through his body, as if his energy were slowly draining away. He did not notice the faint glow beneath his palm where it rested on the cat's fur.
Please don't die. Please don't die. Please don't die.
He nearly stumbled into a tree trunk before pushing through the last line of trees into a clearing. Bright sunlight struck his eyes, forcing them shut. When he opened them again, he saw houses.
Not gray concrete blocks layered with dust and grime like the ones he knew. These were… beautiful.
The homes looked almost grown rather than built. Walls curved gently instead of meeting in hard corners, made from smooth clay mixed with some material that shimmered faintly in the light. Roofs arched like overlapping leaves, covered in thick, mossy thatch threaded with colored ribbons that fluttered in the breeze.
Some houses stood on low stone platforms etched with patterns he did not recognize, while others had open courtyards filled with flowering plants and hanging glass ornaments that chimed softly when the wind passed through. The colors were warm, sun-baked reds, honey golds, and soft greens, nothing like the dull concrete of the city.
And there were people.
Will they help the cat?
A kind-looking woman approached with an easy grin.
"You're holding the best hunter in our village," she said with a chuckle. "Might want to put him down."
A man behind her laughed and stepped closer. Their clothes looked soft, flowing fabric in layered wraps and loose shirts, dyed in earthy tones. For a brief, absurd moment, Lyor found himself wishing he owned something like that.
"Hunter? This cat?" he muttered, his vision beginning to dim. Maybe the village had a rat problem.
"It needs help. I… I fell on him. Please." His voice cracked as he pleaded. "Please don't let it die."
Anxiety spilled out of him as the cat's body felt heavier and more still in his arms.
"No, no, no…"
"Hey, kid. It's okay." Someone reached toward him.
He flinched violently and clutched the cat tighter. The man stopped immediately, hands raised mid-air. Lyor's thoughts tangled in panic.
He's trying to help. Let him help.
"He can help," the woman said gently from somewhere above him.
His knees scraped against the sand.
Huh… when did I kneel down?
The last thing he heard was a gasp.