(~1140 words)
She woke to silence, but not the empty kind.
The kind filled with the breath of the world—gentle winds brushing leaves, the soft crunch of shifting bark, and the distant trill of unseen birds calling to one another.
Nyari opened her eyes.
She was lying on a patch of moss under the outstretched boughs of a massive whitewood tree. The bark shimmered faintly, tinged with silver, its roots curled like resting beasts around her. Dappled sunlight broke through the canopy, dancing in patterns across her striped arms and the edge of her thigh. Her ears twitched—slender, furred, perfectly white with subtle black stripes. They caught every vibration in the air like delicate antennae.
She sat up slowly, blinking.
"…It's real," she whispered, her voice soft and unfamiliar to her own ears—higher, lighter, but grounded.
She raised a hand and flexed her fingers. The motion was natural. Her body obeyed with ease. Claws slid in and out of her fingertips as she tested her grip. Her long tail flicked across the moss beside her, expressive even in its lazy sway.
"I'm… her. I'm really her…"
Her name drifted into her thoughts like a familiar melody:
Nyari.
Not Riku.
Not anymore.
The memories of her past life were there, but distant. A boy who loved to dream, who saved a child from a car, and whispered a wish with his last breath. A wish the stars had answered.
There was no sky above this forest, only tangled leaves and beams of white sunlight. But she knew—felt—that this world wasn't Earth.
And more than that, she wasn't human anymore.
🐾 Step One: Survive
She stood. Her balance was perfect, body light and strong like a spring-loaded weapon. She wore a sleeveless tunic of soft, dark cloth—strangely modern in feel, trimmed with silvery patterns resembling tiger markings. Her legs were covered by flexible white leggings tucked into low boots. She had no pack. No food. Nothing but instinct and a faint glow under her collarbone.
She looked down.
There it was—a faint symbol, glowing softly like ink drawn with starlight. Her crest.
"I need people," she murmured, ears twitching as her gaze swept the forest. "Civilization. Roads. A town. A guild…"
The word came from stories—RPGs, anime, fantasy games she used to play and dream about. But in this world? They could be real.
There has to be an adventurer's guild somewhere.
I'll find it.
I'll join.
And I'll figure out who I'm meant to be in this world.
🌲 The Forest of Lirthwood
She began walking.
The forest around her was ancient—older than memory. Pale trees stretched endlessly, their leaves rustling like whispering ghosts. Strange birds with gemstone feathers darted through the boughs, and the ground was soft with years of fallen leaves.
Nyari didn't feel fear.
Not because she was brave—but because something deep in her bones knew she was strong. Her senses were sharp, her limbs agile, and every movement felt… precise.
Hours passed. The sun shifted above the canopy, changing the quality of light. She moved quickly—vaulting over logs, crouching beneath brambles, darting across shallow creeks without leaving a sound.
And all the while, she listened.
For signs of people. Civilization. Roads. Smoke. Anything.
But the deeper she walked, the more surreal the world felt. Giant crystal flowers bloomed along cliffsides. Insects glowed softly in the shadows. Trees sang when the wind pushed just right, their trunks vibrating like instruments.
At one point, she passed a giant stone statue half-buried in moss—some long-forgotten guardian beast with six wings and no eyes.
She paused.
"...Was this a battlefield?" she whispered, reaching out to touch the moss. "Or a temple?"
No answer came. Only birdsong.
🔥 First Contact
It was nearly dusk when Nyari finally smelled it—smoke.
Her ears perked up sharply, and she broke into a run, bounding over roots and stones in silence. Her speed increased without thought. The wind rushed past her face, her white hair fluttering behind her like a streak of mist.
She burst through a wall of brush—and skidded to a halt at the edge of a clearing.
There was a small campfire, and beside it, a tall man in weathered armor with a short beard and an axe beside him. A donkey grazed nearby. He looked up instantly as Nyari emerged—eyes narrowing.
She held up both hands.
"I'm not a threat!" she said quickly. "I'm just… lost."
The man stared. His expression didn't soften.
"…Girl like you shouldn't be out here alone," he muttered gruffly. "Forest's full of wolves and worse."
"I can handle myself," she replied calmly, though her heart beat faster. "I'm looking for a town. Or a road. I want to find the nearest adventurer's guild."
That made the man scoff. "You? An adventurer?"
Nyari's ears flicked.
"What—because I'm small? Or because I'm a girl?"
"Because you're dressed like a lost kitten and smell like you've never been near blood," he grunted, picking up a waterskin. "You'd last five minutes out here if something real found you."
He took a long drink, then eyed her again. "You got a weapon, miss?"
She hesitated… then summoned a glowing dagger of pure white light into her palm.
The clearing dimmed. The dagger hummed—ethereal, weightless, pulsing with her emotion.
The man blinked. "…Huh."
Nyari tilted her head. "Want to test me?"
He chuckled. "No. I don't. Sit down, cub. You can share the fire tonight."
🌙 Campfire Dreams
They didn't talk much after that.
The man—he never gave his name—let her have some jerky and hard bread, and pointed her toward a dirt trail that supposedly led east to a town called Virelow. She asked about guilds. He said Virelow had one—small, but functional.
That was enough.
When the fire burned low and the stars came out, Nyari curled near the edge of the camp, arms around her knees, tail wrapped over her feet.
She didn't sleep.
She just looked at the stars and whispered quietly to herself:
"Tomorrow… I'll find the guild."
"I'll become an adventurer."
"And maybe… maybe I'll finally belong somewhere."
🛤️ The Road to Virelow
The next morning, she was gone before the man even woke.
The dirt path wound through hills and streams, and Nyari moved like a shadow through the dawn mist. Her body adjusted easily to the terrain, feet making no sound, eyes catching every twitch of motion in the bushes.
By midday, she finally saw it—the gates of a small walled town, flanked by two lazy guards and a rusted bell.
Her heart leapt.
People. Civilization. And maybe… her future.
She brushed the dust off her tunic, adjusted her white-streaked hair, and walked forward toward her new life.
Toward the guild that would one day learn to whisper her name with reverence—
Nyari, the star-eyed huntress of light and speed.
To be continued in Chapter Two: "Guilds and First Impressions"