“This isn’t real,” Evie said, scrambling to her feet and brushing grass from her jeans. “This can’t be real. We were just in the bookstore, and now…” She gestured wildly at the endless golden fields surrounding them. “People don’t just get sucked into books!”
Iris stood up more slowly, still clutching “The Loyal Wanderer” in her hands. The book felt warm to the touch, almost alive. “Well, something happened. And arguing about whether it’s real isn’t going to help us figure out how to get home.”
“Home!” Evie’s voice cracked with panic. “Our group is probably looking for us right now. Marcus and Zoe will tell the teachers we disappeared, and Mom will be so worried, and—”
“Evie, stop.” Iris’s voice was calmer than her cousin’s, but her knuckles were white where she gripped the book. “Freaking out won’t help anything.”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Evie snapped, her usual politeness forgotten in her fear. “Just start walking around some magical farmland like this is perfectly normal?”
“Maybe we should look at the book again. See if there are more clues.”
“Or maybe we should try to find people! Real people who can help us get back to where we’re supposed to be!” Evie started walking in a random direction, then stopped and spun around. “Which way do we even go? Everything looks exactly the same!”
Iris looked around at the vast expanse of golden wheat. Evie was right—in every direction, the fields stretched to the horizon, broken only by the distant purple mountains. There were no roads, no buildings, no signs of civilization anywhere.
“I don’t know,” Iris admitted. “But standing here arguing isn’t going to solve anything either.”
“Fine,” Evie said, taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself. “You’re right. We need to think this through logically.”
Iris raised an eyebrow, surprised by her cousin’s sudden shift. “Okay…”
“The book brought us here, right? So maybe it has instructions or a map or something.” Evie moved closer to Iris. “And those mountains—they’re the only landmark we can see. If we’re going to find civilization, that’s probably our best bet.”
Iris opened “The Loyal Wanderer” and flipped through the pages. “Most of this looks like a regular story, but… wait.” She stopped at a page that showed a hand-drawn map. “Look at this. It shows farmlands, and there—” She pointed to a small illustration. “There’s a village at the base of those mountains.”
“So we head toward the mountains?”
“I guess that’s our best option.” Iris closed the book and looked around. “The sun is over there, so if that’s west like it is at home, then the mountains are north. We follow the sun’s path and keep the mountains ahead of us.”
“Alright,” Evie said, shouldering her backpack. “Let’s go find some answers.”
They began walking through the golden wheat fields, the grain brushing against their legs as they made their way toward the distant mountains. At first, they walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts about what had happened and what they might find ahead.
After what felt like an hour of steady walking, the endless farmland finally began to change. The wheat gave way to shorter grass, and they could see a line of scraggly trees ahead that marked what looked like a dried-up riverbed.
“My feet are killing me,” Evie complained, adjusting her backpack straps. “These shoes weren’t made for hiking across fantasy worlds.”
“At least we’re getting somewhere,” Iris replied, though she was breathing harder than usual too. “Look, I think that’s the village up ahead.”
As they approached the dry riverbed, they could see beyond it to where small buildings dotted the landscape at the base of the purple mountains. Smoke rose from several chimneys, and they could make out what looked like gardens and possibly even people moving around.
“We have to get across this first,” Evie said, looking down into the rocky channel that had once been a river. It wasn’t particularly deep, but the sides were steep and covered with loose stones.
Iris went first, half-sliding and half-climbing down the bank. “It’s not too bad,” she called back up. “Just watch where you step.”
Evie followed more carefully, testing each foothold before putting her full weight on it. Halfway down, a rock shifted under her foot and she stumbled, grabbing onto Iris’s outstretched hand to steady herself.
“Thanks,” she said, surprised by how natural it felt to accept help from her cousin.
“No problem,” Iris replied, and for the first time since they’d met, her smile seemed genuine.
Together, they climbed up the opposite bank and found themselves standing at the true outskirts of the village, close enough now to see people walking between the buildings and hear the distant sounds of daily life.
As they approached the first cluster of small stone houses, they heard raised voices coming from just ahead. Around the corner of a building, they could see a group of villagers gathered in a circle, their voices angry and unwelcoming.
“We already gave you a patch of land on the outskirts!” one man shouted. “That should be enough for your kind!”
“You’re not welcome inside the village proper,” added a woman with graying hair. “We made that clear when you first arrived.”
In the center of the circle stood a young woman who appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She had copper-colored hair braided with small, colorful beads, and skin that was much tanner than anyone else in the village – a deep bronze that spoke of a homeland with stronger sun. She wore clothes that were clearly from somewhere far away—flowing fabrics in rich blues and greens with intricate patterns embroidered along the edges. The garments had obviously once been beautiful, but now they were tattered and worn, with frayed hems and small tears that spoke of a long, difficult journey. Despite being outnumbered and clearly having fallen on hard times, she stood with her chin raised, refusing to back down. There was a confidence in her posture that spoke of someone who had faced challenges before and survived them.
“I only came to see if anyone needed help with their harvest,” the young woman said, her voice carrying a slight accent. “I have experience with—”
“We don’t need help from outsiders,” another villager interrupted. “Especially not from people who practice… unnatural things. We’ve all seen the brand on your arm.”
“Your kind brings nothing but trouble,” another villager spat. “We don’t need any foreigners stirring up problems.”
The woman’s shoulders sagged slightly at the harsh words, but she straightened them again with visible effort. “I understand,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a slight accent. “I’ll leave you in peace.”
She turned away from the hostile crowd and began walking in the direction of Evie and Iris. As she approached, they could see tears glistening in her dark eyes, though she held her head high. Her steps were slow and weary, as if she had been through this rejection many times before.
When she spotted the two girls standing near the edge of the village, she stopped suddenly. Her eyes widened as she took in their strange clothes—so different from both her own foreign garments and the simple village attire.
“Oh,” she said softly, wiping quickly at her eyes. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” She paused, studying them with curiosity overriding her despair. “You’re not from here either, are you?”
She managed a small, weary smile. “I’m Veyra. And judging by those clothes, I’d guess you’re as lost as I am.”
