Alpha Hole

The older male, who I now knew as Robert, stopped the bike at the edge of the tree line, his feet crunching in the loose gravel as he walked the bike to a stop.

He inclined his head to me. "You be careful now."

I nodded, unable to formulate the right words to thank him for all he'd done. He studied me a long moment as if he was waging a war within himself about leaving me here to go the rest of the way on my own. Then he breathed a resigned sigh.

"See that rock that juts above the treeline." He pointed, and my gaze roamed over the highest peek. "You'll want to go until you reach it, but if I had to bargain, I'd bet they will find you well before you reach them."

I looked to see that Ben, Robert's son, was looking around nervously. His fingers drummed a restless beat against his leg. "We should go."

"I'll be fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My throat was dry, exhaustion settling in to every part of my body.

Robert exchanged a wistful glance with me before they turned their bikes back toward the direction we'd ridden in from.

Alone, I let out a breath. Closing my eyes for that breath, I stilled myself, feeling the enormity of the task ahead settle heavily on my shoulders.

I walked into the unsuspecting treeline and surveyed the area before me. Nothing would suggest that an ancient race lived in this place, but I headed forward. The borrowed house slippers made clumsy footwork as I trudged through the underbrush, catching on roots and rocks.

Then a glimmer of something to my right startled me, but when I looked, there was nothing. My heart raced, and I clutched the thin fabric of my shirt, trying to calm myself. Trudging on, I practiced the words in my head. "I come seeking refuge; in return, I will fulfill your need of me."

I shook my hands out and tried to convince myself that I could do this. I could trade my body for my safety. I would be safe here. They were the only ones who could keep me safe. I blew out a tense breath and pushed on.

Woods thinned and the terrain became rocky, but I could make out the highest point, still well in the distance. The rock face separated into two and created a deep passageway full of red sand. I entered into the space, knowing full well I would easily be cornered. But that was what I wanted, wasn't it .

The slippers filled with sand and made walking more difficult, so I abandoned them. The gritty sand stung my feet, each step a reminder of my desperation. The hours dragged on, and with each step, the sun sank lower, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. My feet ached, my throat was parched, and my legs felt like lead. I stumbled more than once, but I forced myself to keep going. This was my last hope.

Suddenly, the hair on my neck stood. I felt eyes on me. Turning, my stomach turned into lead. Behind me was a figure that was closing in on me.

I sped up, my heart pounding in my chest, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. The figure drew nearer, but just as panic began to take hold, a voice called out, halting my flight. "Hey, stop!"

I turned slowly to find a young male, perhaps a few years older than myself, standing there. His eyes were sharp, filled with a mix of curiosity and caution. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and his clothes, a strange mix of leather and linen, suggested he was no ordinary person. He seemed almost ethereal, his presence commanding yet unassuming.

"Are you lost?" he asked, his voice carrying the weight of authority.

"I... I need to find the ancients," I said, my voice trembling slightly.

He studied me for a long moment, his gaze penetrating. It felt as though he was trying to read my very soul, to discern if I was worthy or perhaps a threat. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and I fought to keep my composure. My knees felt weak, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stand tall. "I don't know what you're talking about— and neither do you."

But he had to— right? I hadn't come all this way to be brushed off.

"Please," I repeated, my voice barely more than a whisper. "I've come all this way."

He stared at me— unconvinced.

"The nocturnals are after me, they locked me in a cage. I escaped and came here. They will find me if I go back." I rambled breathlessly.

Something in his eyes shifted, and then he nodded.

Relief flooded through me as he led me deeper into the passageway. We walked in silence, the only sound being the crunch of sand and gravel underfoot.

He paused, and we stood before the solid rock. Then with a snap of his fingers the rock vanished, revealing an ancient city carved straight into the mountainside.

The sight took my breath away, and I stumbled back. Waterfalls cascaded down the rocks, their mist creating hazy rainbows in the fading light.

Ancient buildings, majestic and timeworn, stood proudly amid lush greenery.

And the city was alive with people of all ages, their attire blending with the natural splendor around them. Children played near the waterfalls, elderly couples walked hand in hand, and groups of young adults engaged in various activities.

The scene before was palpable, yet something about it unsettled me. The presence of so many people, particularly women and children, contradicted everything Matilda, the seer, had told me. Had she lied?

We continued through the city, my guide silent but vigilant. He led me to the highest peak, a place that seemed to overlook the entire expanse. The climb was steep, and my legs burned with each step. The city below became a tapestry of life and color, the sounds of laughter and conversation drifting up to us. Despite the beauty, an eerie tension hung in the air, a sense of foreboding that gnawed at my nerves.

Inside a grand hall at the summit, we encountered an older female and a middle-aged man. They were deep in conversation, their expressions serious and intense. Upon seeing us, they motioned for others in the room to leave. The young male inclined his head respectfully. "I bring you a female seeking refuge," he said.

The older female, her hair a cascade of silver and her eyes wise and piercing, looked at me with interest as she stood and walked to me. The middle-aged man, his presence commanding and his gaze intense, studied me closely.

"We've been looking for you, Layla," the woman said, her voice both gentle and authoritative.

My breath caught in my throat. "You know who I am?"

"Of course, and a great deal more than that," she replied, stepping closer. "Your journey has been long and arduous, I'm sure, but you are safe here."

The weight of her words hit me, and I felt a wave of emotions crash over me—relief, exhaustion. I crumpled to the ground, unable to stand any longer. My vision blurred with tears, the stress and fatigue of my journey finally overwhelming me.