Bab 2: Elara

It had been a full day since I woke up in this unfamiliar world. The body I inhabited was weak, malnourished, and sluggish, making every movement a small battle against exhaustion. Hunger clawed at my insides, sharper than the ache in my muscles. But I'd managed to eat, thanks to the towering tree above me—an anomaly that had kept me alive.

At first, I thought it was a coconut tree. The trunk was impossibly thick, its bark grooved like stone, and its massive branches stretched into the heavens, creating a dense canopy that blotted out most of the sky. But it wasn't just a tree; it was something far stranger.

Hunger had pushed me to experiment. One of the oval-shaped fruits hanging from the branches had caught my eye. I climbed awkwardly, my unfamiliar limbs protesting every movement, until I managed to pull one down. It was heavy, warm to the touch, and as I cracked it open, I found something that defied logic.

Inside was a steaming meal: soft, fragrant rice paired with a rich, golden curry. The aroma hit me immediately, almost overwhelming. I hadn't realized how desperate I was until that moment. The rice was perfectly cooked, the curry balanced with spices that warmed my throat without burning. Every bite restored a piece of me, both physically and mentally.

For now, the tree's bounty was enough to keep me alive. But even as I ate, I couldn't ignore the unease that gnawed at the back of my mind. This world was massive, alien, and filled with dangers I hadn't encountered yet. Sitting under the tree, I watched the forest stretch out before me, every detail sharper than anything I'd seen on Earth.

The air was cleaner, almost unnaturally so. It carried the faint smell of damp earth and something sweeter, something I couldn't identify. The ground beneath me was soft and lush, like a carpet of moss designed to cradle anything that touched it. The trees that surrounded me weren't just large—they were towering giants. Their trunks rose hundreds of feet into the air, disappearing into a canopy so thick it felt like a second sky. Even the smallest branches were as thick as buildings, holding leaves the size of cars.

I leaned back against the tree, letting my body relax. There was a strange tranquility here, a quiet that felt too perfect, as though the forest itself was watching. I didn't trust it, but I also didn't have the strength to move yet.

Night fell quickly, blanketing the forest in darkness. The air grew colder, carrying a faint chill that bit at my skin. I climbed the tree again, searching for a safe place to sleep. My gaze landed on one of the massive leaves stretched between two thick branches. It resembled a hammock, though far sturdier than anything man-made.

The climb was exhausting, my arms and legs trembling by the time I reached the makeshift bed. I tested the leaf carefully, pressing my weight into it. It held firm, barely bending under the pressure. These weren't normal leaves—they were thick, almost leathery, and seemed to pulse faintly with life.

I settled into the leaf, my body sinking into its soft surface. The height gave me a sense of security, high above the forest floor where unseen dangers might lurk. Through the gaps in the canopy, I could see the stars—bright, unfamiliar constellations scattered across the night sky. The wind rustled the leaves softly, carrying faint sounds from the forest below. Distant calls echoed, low and guttural, but nothing came close.

I closed my eyes, letting my body rest, but my mind refused to follow. The events of the day replayed over and over, each detail sharper than the last. This world was nothing like Earth, but it still felt… familiar, in some strange, unexplainable way.

[Flashback]

The memory came unbidden, vivid and sudden.

A sunlit park. The sound of children laughing. The boy—sat in the sandbox, carefully shaping a castle from the grains beneath him. The structure was crude, but his focus was intense. Each tower, each wall was crafted with care.

"Alex," a voice called, soft and hesitant.

He looked up, squinting against the sunlight. A girl stood at the edge of the slide, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her black hair gleamed in the light, and her dark eyes held a mixture of determination and shyness.

"Can I ask you something?" she said, stepping closer.

Alex tilted his head, brushing sand from his hands. "Of course, Elara. What's up?"

She hesitated, her fingers twisting a strand of her hair. "Will you… will you promise to marry me when we grow up?"

For a moment, Alex didn't answer, his young mind processing the question. Then he smiled, his expression softening. "Is that it? I thought you were going to ask something hard." He laughed lightly, then added, "Of course, Elara. I'll marry you. There's no one else I'd rather be with."

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him in an impulsive hug. "I love you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The memory faded, leaving a strange emptiness in its wake. My eyes opened slowly, the faint light of dawn filtering through the canopy above me. The sounds of the forest began to stir—birds calling in rhythmic patterns, leaves shifting in the wind.

Elara. The name echoed in my mind, bringing with it an ache I couldn't place. She wasn't just a fleeting memory; she was something deeper, someone important. The girl from my past had left an impression so strong it had followed me here.

I sat up, running a hand through my disheveled hair. Her face lingered, vivid and clear. The way she smiled, the softness in her voice—it all felt so real. Too real.

Had she mourned me? What was she doing now? Was she sitting somewhere, clutching a photo, wondering why the world had stolen him away?

My chest tightened, guilt pressing against my ribs. I'd promised her I'd always be there, that I'd never leave. And now, I was in another world, far from her, far from everything.

"Elara," I whispered, the name foreign on my tongue yet familiar in my heart.

I leaned back against the tree, letting the sound of the wind fill the silence. There was no going back. I knew that. But the memory of her smile, her words, stayed with me, anchoring me in this strange, overwhelming world.

Morning came slowly, the golden light spreading across the forest floor in uneven patches. I climbed down from the tree, my body aching from the climb but stronger than before. The hunger had returned, gnawing at my stomach, but the tree's strange, meal-filled fruits were plentiful. For now, they would keep me alive.

As I sat beneath the towering tree, eating another fruit, I couldn't help but wonder what this world held. I didn't know its rules, its dangers, or even its name. But I knew one thing: if I wanted to survive, I'd have to keep moving.