Armish's POV
Breakfast? Weird. Royal? Awkward. Glowing goddess-woman staring at me the entire time? Peak weird.
But the worst part? Said goddess-woman — tall, elegant, practically dripping royalty vibes — grabbed my hand after breakfast, and now I was following her like the world's most confused intern on a field trip… through whatever magical fever-dream dimension this was.
Still didn't know her name. Or where I was. Or how to say, "Can I go home now?" in their weird, moon-language.
But here we were, stepping into a garden that looked like Pinterest, hallucinations, and magic threw a party together.
My jaw? Basically unhinged.
The flowers were massive — glowing softly, petals in impossible shades of blue, silver, and violet. Twisting vines snaked along marble arches, glittering like constellations tangled in leaves. A soft mist drifted over the stone paths, and birds with silver-tipped wings chirped from towering, unreal trees.
Everyone's tall here. Even the plants are winning the height lottery.
I spun in place, wide-eyed like a total idiot.
"Holy floral apocalypse… this is insane," I muttered.
Mystery Lady — silver hair cascading like moonlight perfection — smiled faintly, gesturing to the flowers, saying… words.
Pretty words. Melodic. Completely useless to my panicking, language-challenged brain.
I smiled back, nodding along like I understood anything. Spoiler alert: I did not.
Other people wandered the garden too — tall, ethereal, unnaturally gorgeous people — pausing to glance my way, whispering behind their hands.
I tugged at my borrowed shirt, acutely aware I probably looked like I rolled straight out of a dumpster into their magical kingdom.
They're staring. Great. Probably wondering why I look like an underprepared tourist in their elf-core paradise.
The woman kept walking, pointing to glowing flowers, murmuring explanations — or so I assumed. I just smiled, nodded, and prayed I wasn't about to get arrested for accidental trespassing.
Then… she froze.
Abrupt. Mid-step. Her eyes went glassy — distant, like her brain blue-screened.
I tilted my head cautiously.
"Uh… you good?" I whispered, waving a hand in front of her face. "Hey, Earth to glowing lady?"
No response.
Then suddenly, her hand clamped around mine — cool, surprisingly strong — and she dragged me away from the garden.
"Whoa—okay—guess we're going!" I yelped, tripping after her as she marched down glowing, rune-lined corridors.
No explanation. No subtitles. Just me… getting kidnapped. Again.
We stopped at towering doors, etched with symbols, pulsing faintly like the walls themselves were alive. She shoved them open — and instantly, my heart did gymnastics inside my chest.
The room? Silent. Tense.
Three strangers stared at me:
Tall Silver-Haired Guy: Broody. Ridiculously hot. Same glowing silver eyes as Mystery Lady. His stance screamed dangerous, important, and capable of breaking you with a look.
Older Silver-Haired Guy: Even taller. Older. Scarier. His sharp face carved from stone, those same silver eyes narrowed at me like I was a suspicious bug.
Hot Warrior Woman: Dark hair, sharp features, lethal build, green eyes that looked ready to fight first, ask questions never.
I froze, clinging to Mystery Lady's hand like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.
They started talking — clipped words, fast exchanges, sharp glances passed around like a chess match with extra murder.
I understood nothing.
Mystery Lady let go, stepping toward the younger silver-haired guy, murmuring something. His expression tightened, silver eyes flickering between her… and me.
And then—him.
Green Hair. Lean Frame. Trouble Incarnate.
I barely noticed him slouched lazily on an ornate couch until those sharp green eyes locked onto me.
Holy. Hot. Damn.
"Okay… new favorite stranger unlocked," I whispered, openly staring.
Tall. Lean muscles. Messy green curls framing sharp jawline. Lazy, cocky expression that screamed pure trouble. Smirk sharp enough to destroy my remaining brain cells.
Before I could fully appreciate the view, Broody Silver-Hair subtly stepped into my line of sight — overprotective, tense, blocking the eye-candy.
Okay, wolf-boy, relax…
The others kept speaking — sharp words, occasional tense glances my way — the green-haired guy watching like he was thoroughly entertained.
I understood zero. Not their names. Not why I was here. Only that this? Clearly important.
And judging by the sharp, unreadable looks bouncing between Scary Dad-Guy, Silver-Haired Broody Boy, and Mr. Trouble Green-Hair? Things were… escalating.
Just when I thought this disaster-tourist experience couldn't get more chaotic, Mystery Lady and Silver-Hair exchanged one last look — and his silver eyes landed back on me, glowing faintly, jaw tight with unspoken tension.
Cliffhanger-level tension.
I took a deep breath, plastering on my best awkward smile.
"Cool… this is fine… totally normal tourist experience.
Before I could fully process the awkward tension, Mystery Lady gestured for me to follow.
The older silver-haired guy pointed to a plush seat near the center of the room. His tone? Less "polite suggestion," more "sit before we throw you into space."
I shuffled over awkwardly, plopping down onto the ridiculously soft chair — practically sinking into it like I was being devoured by luxury itself. Silver-Hair stayed close, glaring at everyone like they might assassinate me at any moment.
The argument kicked off instantly.
Broody Silver-Hair versus Green-Hair Trouble Guy.
Words flew — fast, heated, sharp. Silver-Hair's voice low, dangerous, laced with enough fury to ignite the walls. Green-Hair? Lazy smirk firmly in place, lounging on the couch like the verbal explosions were mildly amusing.
They were arguing over me.
Great.
Silver-Hair's jaw clenched, his silver eyes practically glowing as he stepped forward, fists curling like he was seconds away from snapping Green-Hair in half. The air around him crackled, the temperature of the room dropping.
Green-Hair, infuriatingly, just stretched — long limbs sprawled, messy curls falling over his smug expression.
"I don't need subtitles to know murder's about to happen…" I muttered under my breath, shrinking deeper into the chair.
Before Silver-Hair could unleash his inner rage monster, the older silver-haired guy barked a sharp command, stepping between them like the seasoned dad referee he probably was. Mystery Lady — who I might have decided is his wife now — touched Silver-Hair's arm gently, murmuring calming words.
Slowly, the tension drained.
Silver-Hair exhaled, nodding stiffly. His death glare at Green-Hair didn't vanish, but at least murder seemed postponed.
Green-Hair smirked wider, unbothered, as he sauntered toward me.
Cue inner panic.
"Okay… he's walking over… he's hot… I'm panicking…"
Green-Hair stopped inches away, towering over me, eyes sparkling with mischief. One hand lifted, brushing his fingers against my forehead.
I flinched instinctively.
But instead of turning me into sparkles or a frog, he began murmuring softly — the same melodic, unfamiliar language — his palm pressed to my forehead, glowing faintly with warm light.
Everyone in the room straightened, eyes fixed on me.
The light pulsed brighter.
Was I… getting magic? Superpowers? My very own Marvel moment?
I braced myself, excitement sparking wildly in my chest— and then…
Nothing.
The light fizzled. His hand dropped. The room stayed exactly the same — no glowing tattoos, no elemental blasts, no cool transformations.
Just… me. Sitting there. Still a confused, underdressed human burrito.
"…Did I just get scanned like airport luggage?" I deadpanned, blinking at Green-Hair.
The entire room froze.
Four pairs of eyes went wide — shock rippling across their unnaturally perfect faces.
Oh good. Now they all think I'm possessed or insane.