What would you do if you knew you had a thousand years to live?
I never thought I'd get the chance to find out. The hospital ceiling had other plans for me. Twenty-six years old, bone cancer eating through my body, morphine keeping the worst of it at bay. My mom held my hand at the end. Told me it was okay to let go.
So I did.
And then I woke up in a cave with pointed ears and a body that didn't hurt.
Two moons in the sky. A forest that stretched beyond the horizon. It was filled with stone and trees and the slow realization that I wasn't human anymore.
Elf. I was an elf.
The first few weeks were survival. Finding water. Foraging for food that my new body seemed to instinctively recognize as safe. The cave became my shelter. I carved marks into the wall to count the days, then stopped when I realized how meaningless that felt.
Time moved differently here. Or maybe it was just me.
I explored the forest in careful circles, expanding my radius each day.
Three months in, I found the lake.
It was massive, more like an inland sea, and along its shore I finally saw signs of civilization. Ruins mostly. Stone foundations of buildings long abandoned. I was examining what looked like the remnants of a dock when I heard footsteps behind me.
I spun around.
The woman standing there didn't look threatening, but something about her made my skin prickle. She was tall, elegant, with white hair and horns curving back from her head. Her eyes were purple and completely calm.
"An elf," she said, tilting her head slightly. "Alone. How unusual."
My hand tightened around the stick I'd been using as a walking staff. "Who are you?"
"Solitär." She said it like I should know the name.
Well, I didn't. But something about it felt familiar in a way I couldn't place. Like a word on the tip of my tongue.
"What are you?" I asked.
"A demon." She smiled slightly. "You don't seem surprised."
I wasn't sure why I wasn't. Maybe the horns. Maybe something about this world had already prepared me for impossibilities.
"I'm new here," I said carefully. "To... all of this."
"I can tell." Solitär moved closer, circling me like I was a curious specimen. "Your mana flow is erratic. Untrained. But there's something odd about the way you carry yourself."
"What do you mean?"
"You move like someone who's forgotten how bodies work. And then remembered." Her eyes narrowed with interest. "Tell me about your world."
"My world?"
"The one you came from. Before this body."
My breath caught. "How did you—"
"An educated guess. Confirmed by your reaction." She sat down on a broken pillar, gesturing for me to sit as well. "I study things that interest me. You interest me. So tell me. What is your world like?"
I hesitated. But I was alone, lost, and she was the first person I'd spoken to in months.
So I told her.
About Earth. About technology and medicine and short human lives. About hospitals and cities and seven billion people crammed onto one planet. About dying at twenty-six with so much left undone.
Solitär listened without interrupting. When I finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
"Fascinating," she finally said. "A world that extends life through artifice rather than nature." She stood. "You have knowledge no one in this world possesses. Perspectives that could prove valuable."
"Valuable how?"
"That depends. What do you intend to do with your centuries, Mara?"
I blinked. "I didn't tell you my name."
"You carved it into the cave wall. I visited your shelter before finding you here." She extended a hand. "I could teach you about this world. Magic. Mana. How to survive what's coming. In exchange, you share your unique perspective with me."
"What's coming?"
"War. Eventually. It's always coming." Her expression didn't change. "Do we have an agreement?"
I looked at her hand. A demon offering to teach an elf. Everything about this should have felt wrong.
But I was alone in a world I didn't understand, and she was offering answers.
I took her hand.
"We have an agreement."
Solitär's smile widened slightly. "Good. We'll start with controlling your mana. Your presence is far too obvious right now."
"Wait, what do you mean by—"
"Walk with me. There's much to cover, and centuries are shorter than you think."
She started walking along the shoreline.
After a moment, I followed.
I still didn't know where I was. What world this was. But I had a teacher now.
And apparently, I had time.