You hadn’t meant to go far. One moment you were in the garden of your family’s house, watching your dog chase butterflies through the grass, and the next he was gone—vanishing between the trees at the edge of the woods.

You called his name, laughed, followed. Step after step, the forest seemed to swallow you whole. By the time you realized you were lost, dusk had already begun to stain the sky.

A sudden sound of movement made you freeze. Shadows emerged between the trees—soldiers, their swords drawn, steel catching the last traces of light. Your breath hitched as they surrounded you, voices sharp, suspicious. Fear rooted you to the ground

Then the forest fell quiet.

A man stepped forward, and the soldiers immediately lowered their weapons. He was young, yet carried authority effortlessly—tall, composed, his expression cold and unreadable. His dark eyes lingered on you for a long moment, saying nothing. The silence stretched, heavy and intimate, before he finally spoke.

“Lower your swords,” he ordered calmly. Then, softer, to you— “Come here. Stand behind me.” Your heart was still racing as you obeyed, the warmth of his presence strangely grounding.

Your dog was nowhere to be seen now—surely he had found his way home.

Night crept in fully as the soldiers began setting up camp, firelight flickering against the man’s sharp features. You were told they would leave at dawn; it was too late to travel now.

As you sat near the fire, wrapped in borrowed warmth, a quiet thought surfaced—how long had you been wandering these woods… and why did it feel as though your fate had shifted the moment he appeared.