For a moment she didn’t move, her body tense, waiting for the ritual’s blinding light to return.
She blinked up at a sky filtered through leaves, and confusion flooded in all at once. Where was she? How had she gotten here?
The last thing she remembered was the ritual, the overwhelming light, the feeling of falling through endless space. Then nothing. Just blackness and the sensation of being remade, transformed, fundamentally altered.
Now she was here, in a meadow nestled deep in the forest, gently rocking in a hammock. The grass beneath the hammock was preternaturally green, each blade seeming to catch and reflect light with a clarity that bordered on unreal. Blue and yellow flowers dotted the landscape, their petals shifting colors slightly as she watched, as if responding to some unseen breeze or magical current.
The trees that encircled the meadow were massive, their trunks wide enough that she could have fit inside them, their branches spreading out to form a protective canopy overhead. They looked ancient, wise, and aware. The entire place conjured the sense of a sanctuary, somewhere safe and sacred.
Clara pulled her legs over to the side of the hammock and tried to sit up, but the moment she moved, everything changed.
Floating in the air in front of her, there was something obscuring her vision. A small box, transparent but clearly visible, with the word "" displayed in clean, white text. Below it, a progress bar glowed with soft blue light, currently showing about ten percent complete.
She blinked, rubbed her eyes, tried to look away, but no matter how she moved her head or shifted her gaze, the box remained in her vision, positioned in the center of her field of view. It was like a heads-up display, something straight out of a video game or augmented reality app.
Fear clawed at her throat. Something was inside her head, floating in her vision, and refused to leave. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the box was still there, glowing behind her eyelids. She couldn't escape it.
"What the cyberpunk hell is this?" Clara muttered, her voice coming out hoarse and unfamiliar. She tried to push the box away with her hand, but her fingers passed right through it. It wasn't real, but it was there, like a hallucinatory popup. Was this part of the magic ritual Trazathine had performed on her? What exactly was loading, and what would happen when it finished?
The thought terrified her. Her hands shook as she touched her face, her arms. Everything felt the same, but something deep down had shifted. She could sense it beneath her skin, in her bones.
The thought of Trazathine made her stomach clench, and not just with emotion. Suddenly she felt incredible nausea, the world spinning around her in a way that had nothing to do with the hammock's gentle sway. Her head pounded, her stomach roiled, and before she could figure out what was happening, she was tumbling out of the hammock and landing hard on the grass below.
The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, and then she was vomiting, retching into the grass as her body decided to purge itself of something vile. Black and green goo poured from her mouth, thick and viscous, forming a small puddle in front of her. The smell was indescribable, something she had never encountered before, like rot and chemicals and something else, something irredeemably wrong.
She retched again, her whole body shaking, and the goo kept coming. What had she been fed to throw up something like this? What had Trazathine done to her? Fear and panic mixed with the physical sickness, making everything worse.
When the vomiting finally stopped, Clara collapsed onto her side, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face from the force of it. Her whole body ached, and she felt weak.
Clara lay there for a long moment, trying to catch her breath, trying to process what was happening to her. The loading box in her vision flickered, and when she focused on it again, she saw the progress bar had advanced to about two-thirds complete.
Slowly, carefully, Clara pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her body felt different, strange. Not just weak from being sick, but altered at an essential level. She could feel things she'd never felt before, sense things that shouldn't have been perceptible. The air around her shimmered with invisible energy. The plants nearby felt alive in a way that went beyond normal life. Even the ground beneath her pulsed with some kind of energy.
She looked around the meadow more carefully. It was a perfect circle, surrounded by those massive trees that had the appearance of a wall, protective and foreboding at the same time. Two trees in the center held her hammock, their branches woven together to support it. The grass was soft beneath her hands, and she ran her fingers through it, marveling at how it seemed to respond to her touch, leaning toward her slightly.
Was this magic? Was she sensing magical energies? The thought was exciting.
"Hello? Mr. Fae? Trazathine? Is anyone here?" Clara called out, her voice shaky and rough. But there was no response, only the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant sound of birds. She was alone.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. He'd left her. After everything, after the ritual, after transforming her, he'd just left her alone in this meadow. Left with no explanation. He was just gone.
Fear settled in her chest, cold and heavy. She was alone in a magical world with powers she didn't understand and a strange interface in her head. How was she supposed to figure this out by herself?
The question pressed down on her, but she pushed back against the anxiety. Breathe, Clara, just breathe, she told herself. Panicking wouldn't help. She needed to think, to understand what was happening. She'd chosen this path. Now she had to learn to walk it, even if she was walking alone.
The progress bar in her vision lurched forward, now showing about ninety percent complete. Her breath caught in her throat, and she found herself leaning forward, unable to look away even as her fingers dug into the grass beneath her. The bar pulsed with that soft blue light, drawing her attention. She wondered what would happen when it finished, if it would make more sense, or explain itself. Maybe there would be a tutorial. Anything to help her feel more prepared for everything that was happening and about to happen.
Maybe this was how people here used magic. Maybe everyone had some kind of interface, some kind of system that helped them understand their abilities. Or maybe it was unique to her, a result of her phone being used in the ritual. Trazathine had seemed fascinated by it, had said it felt wrong but would work perfectly.
The thought sent a shiver through her. He'd known something. But whether he'd known about this interface specifically, or just that the phone would work as an anchor, she couldn't say. She'd have to figure it out on her own.
Emotions churned inside her. Fear of being alone and unprepared. Wonder at the magic she could now sense all around her. Uncertainty about how to use these new abilities. Excitement at the possibilities. They streamed together until she couldn't tell where one ended and another began.
Despite everything, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. This was what she'd always dreamed of. This was magic. But the thrill was threaded through with apprehension. She'd wanted this, dreamed of this, but now that it was real, the weight of it pressed down on her. What she'd wanted when it was impossible felt terrifyingly real now, with consequences she couldn't predict.
Finally, the loading box reached one hundred percent, and it vanished, fading away as if it had never been there. For a moment, Clara's vision was clear, and she felt a surge of relief. But then a new interface appeared, and her relief turned to wonder and confusion.
This new interface was larger and far more complex. It was semi-transparent, so it didn't completely obscure her vision, but it covered a significant portion of what she could see. The design was clean and modern, with smooth edges and glowing text that seemed to float in the air.
Up at the top left, in elegant script, it read: . The words pulsed gently, as if they were alive. On the top right, there were two bars labeled Mana and Health. The Health bar was full, glowing green. But the Mana bar was almost empty, showing just a sliver of purple at the far left.
In the center of her vision, a notification box appeared with the text: System Initialized.
Clara stared at it, her mind racing. This was definitely connected to her phone, to the ritual. Had her phone somehow been integrated into her mind?
The thought made her uneasy. Her phone had been a personal device, filled with her life, her memories, her connections to home. Now it was fused to her mind, transformed into this interface, this system that she couldn't escape. It felt invasive, like someone had reached inside her head and rewired something essential.
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She still felt like herself, like she had before. She wasn't sure a hybrid of human and machine would feel any different though. But it didn't matter. She just had to accept it, to adapt, to learn how to live with this new part of herself.
She focused on the notification box, and thought about dismissing it, as she would close a popup on her phone. As she thought that, the box disappeared, fading smoothly out of view.
"Well, that was easy," she said aloud, her voice echoing slightly in the quiet meadow. "Guess I just have to think about it to interact with it."
Before she could explore further, a new notification appeared, this one in a soft golden color that gently pulsed. It read:
Clara stared at it, her curiosity piqued. A quest. Like in a game. She focused on the notification, and it expanded, showing more details:
The "???" caught her attention. Hidden rewards. That was interesting. Some rewards were shown upfront, but others would be revealed when she completed the quest. She dismissed the notification, and it faded away, but she had a feeling it was stored somewhere in the system.
At the bottom right of her vision, a small menu appeared. Five options were listed:
They were arranged like app icons, glowing softly and waiting for her attention.
Clara's curiosity overwhelmed her fear. She focused on "," thinking about opening it, and immediately a screen appeared before her, overlaying her vision. It showed a grid of square boxes, similar to video game inventory systems. There were multiple rows and columns, all empty except for the first slot which had a faint outline. There was also text at the bottom that read:
"Fascinating," Clara said, her mind reeling with the possibilities. "I guess I don't have anything yet." She chuckled, the sound feeling strange and foreign in this impossible situation. "I wonder how I can put stuff in here. And how much! Fifty slots is a lot. Do bigger items take more slots? Can I stack things?"
She dismissed the possessions screen and focused on "Spell Book." Another screen appeared, this one even more elaborate. Its appearance was straight out of a fantasy role-playing game, with ornate borders and elegant typography. The title at the top read , and below it were sections for different categories of spells.
And she already knew five spells! They were listed with their names, levels, mana costs, and descriptions.
She read through them, her excitement growing with each one.
"Wow!" Clara said, unable to contain her excitement.
These were real spells. Actual magic she could cast. She had five different spells, and they all sounded incredible. But she needed to be smart about this. Her mana was already low, and she had no idea how quickly it would regenerate. She should probably test things carefully, maybe start with one spell and see what happened.
But first, she wanted to explore the interface more. She closed the spell book and opened the Status screen. Immediately, a detailed character sheet appeared, showing:
Character
Vitals
Attributes
Magical affinities
Clara stared at it, trying to process what she was seeing. This was literally a character sheet from a role-playing game. Her stats, her level, her class, all displayed in neat, organized text. It was surreal, impossible, and yet there it was, floating in front of her eyes.
Sorceress. She blinked at the class name. She'd thought she'd be a druid, with all the nature and life magic. Maybe the system used different terms. Or maybe sorceress was just a broader category that included nature magic users. The interface was based on her phone, after all, not on this world's traditions. It might categorize things differently than the people here would.
Her eyes grew wide when she saw even her height and weight listed. What was this thing, and how did it know so much about her?
She noticed her mana had regenerated slightly, now showing 8 out of 50. So it did regenerate over time, just slowly. Good to know.
Closing the status screen, she opened the Skills menu. This one showed mostly empty slots, but there was one entry: . The description read:
That made sense. She was a complete beginner, after all. But it was exciting to think that she could improve, that these skills would level up as she used them.
Finally, she opened the Journal. This screen was different from the others, more like a notebook. It had two main sections: and .
Under Quests, she saw the quest she'd just received: . She focused on it, and it expanded to show the full details again. The objective was clear: find a town or settlement. The rewards showed Experience Points and something hidden. She wondered what the hidden reward would be. Something useful, hopefully.
The World Information section was mostly empty, with just a note:
Clara closed the Journal, feeling a sense of purpose. She had a goal now, a quest to complete. Find civilization. Find a town. It was daunting, but also exciting. She had a direction, something to work toward.
Clara closed all the menus and sat there in the meadow, trying to process everything. This interface, this system, the design, the functionality, even the way it responded to her thoughts, it all had the look and feel of an app or operating system. She wasn't sure if she was fully human anymore, or if she was the magical version of a cyborg now.
The thought was a little horrifying. And a tiny bit fascinating.
She looked around the meadow again, taking in the peacefulness, the beauty of it. Despite everything that had happened, despite the weirdness of the interface and the vomiting and the complete impossibility of her situation, she felt okay.
She felt that she could handle this, that she was adapting.
Yet that feeling also felt like a lie.
She was adapting because she had no choice. She was accepting because the alternative was despair. This was survival, not thriving. At least not yet.
Her throat tightened as she thought about home, about her friends, about everything she'd been taken away from. Would she ever see them again? Or would the memory of her just disappear, another missing person, another mystery that would never be solved?
The thought brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away. Crying wouldn't help. Panicking wouldn't help. She was here, and she had to find a way to survive. Even if she was scared. Even if she wasn't sure she could do this.
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the meadow. Clara realized she had no idea how long she'd been here, how much time had passed since the ritual. Her sense of time was completely out of sorts. The world around her moved at its own pace, and she had no way to measure it.
Then she had an idea.
She focused on her system interface, and looked for a clock. There it was, beside her health and mana. A digital display of the current time. It was 9:15 pm. She focused on it, and a screen opened, showing the option to set an alarm or a timer. She was never a fan of the alarm clock in the morning, and could only imagine how this would be, from inside her head.
She should probably rest. She was still weak from the transformation, still processing everything. And tomorrow, well, tomorrow she would explore her magic properly. For now, she just needed to rest, to let her body and mind adjust to whatever had been done to her.
Clara sat down next to one of the trees that held up the hammock, leaning against its rough bark. The tree felt warm against her back, and she could sense something, a connection that hadn't been there before. It felt like a link to the tree itself, its inner source of life and energy, faint but unmistakable. A part of her nature affinity, perhaps.
She brought up her status screen again, studying it. She wondered again if everyone in this world had something like this, or if it was unique to her because of the phone. Maybe this interface was something completely new to this world, a fusion of her world's technology and this world's magic.
Level one sorceress. Not exactly a druid, but it was her start, in this world of magic. The class name suggested she was more of a spellcaster than a shapeshifter and friend to animals, but her affinities included nature and life, which fit with the druidic path she'd wanted. Maybe she could still learn druid-like abilities as she grew more magically adept.
The thought was exciting. She wanted to get out there and start exploring, start using her magic, start leveling up. But beneath the excitement, a droplet of fear lurked. Thoughts of dangers out there that would be too much for her.
She shook her head, pushing the doubts away.
She was tired.
It would be a good idea to get some rest, to let her body fully recover, and then head out with a fresh mind.
She pulled herself up and climbed back into the hammock.
Lying back and getting comfortable, she considered her other affinities. She wasn't sure about cold or darkness magic. The more she thought about them, and the ritual, the more she was inclined to the idea that Trazathine had made decisions for her, railroading her. What was his agenda?
She put these thoughts aside for now. Her body and mind needed rest.
As she closed her eyes, exhaustion hit her like a wave. The transformation, the vomiting, the shock of the interface, it had all taken its toll. But even as sleep pulled at her, questions swirled in her mind. She wondered what she would become with this new power. If she got it wrong out here, alone, there would be no one to help her.
She thought of her friends, her apartment, Mittens curled up on her couch. A pang of grief tightened her throat. She missed them. Missed the familiar. But that life was behind her now, separated by worlds she couldn't cross. This was her reality now. Tomorrow she would start learning what that meant.
She was fast asleep within moments, her last thought a mixture of wonder and uncertainty about what tomorrow would bring.