But what met my eyes wasn’t the ground rushing up to meet me.
It was air.
Open, empty, terrifying air.
The tree I’d spotted earlier? It was growing from the side of a cliff.
What—
I wasn’t on the second floor—I was on the edge of a cliff.
The ground below wasn’t a few meters down. It was dozens of meters away, a forest floor so far beneath me it looked like a painting.
Oh crap—oh crap oh crap oh crap—
Wind rushed past me as my stomach lurched. The kind of drop that made you question every life decision you’d ever made—including jumping out of a perfectly good window without checking the view.
I twisted mid-air, arms flailing, desperate to grab anything—a branch, a vine, divine intervention—
And then I saw it. A thick branch jutting out from the cliff’s side, just barely within reach.
Don’t think—just move!
I reached out with everything I had—
Then—I grabbed something.
It wasn’t rough like bark. Not solid like a branch.
It was… soft? Warm?
A hand?
Before I could even process that, I heard a calm, amused voice above me.
“Oh my… what do we have here?”
I opened my eyes mid-fall—expecting sky, maybe death—but instead saw a girl hovering effortlessly in the air. She had shimmering silver hair that sparkled in the sun like stardust and sharp golden eyes that gleamed with mischief. Her dark cloak fluttered dramatically in the wind, and atop her head sat a classic pointed witch hat. The cherry on top?
She was sitting on a flying broom.
What the actual hell…
“Hold tight,” she said smoothly before yanking me upward like I weighed nothing at all.
The broom dipped slightly with the added weight, but she shifted her balance with practiced ease. In seconds, I was straddling the broom behind her, gripping her waist with shaky hands as we soared away from the cliffside.
I couldn't speak.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because my brain was still buffering.
My entire day had gone from “being kidnapped” to “gravity betrayal” to “rescued by flying witch girl” in under five minutes.
She chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at me with a smirk. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My mouth opened, but my brain hadn't caught up yet.
She didn’t seem to mind.
“Well… to be precise, you’re not from this world,” she added, tone light as if she were commenting on the weather.
My expression must’ve screamed WHAT?!, because she laughed again.
“That confused look is so cute. You remind me of someone I know.”
She turned fully now, somehow steering the broom with her legs alone. Her eyes narrowed with interest. “Tell me… what’s your name?”
I swallowed hard. “Uh… Syena. Syena Fiolera.”
At the sound of my name, her brows lifted in recognition. For the first time, she looked genuinely surprised.
“Fiolera?” she repeated. “No wonder… This must be fate.”
Fate? What does that mean?
And why did her smile suddenly look so much more serious?