I woke in a green field,

  breathing in clear air carrying the scent of grass. I did not question

  where I was or how I got here. Kidnapped? In danger? Maybe. But this

  felt nice.

  "Interesting.

  You are nothing like the last one. He was quite jittery." A voice

  interrupted my thoughts. I sat up, glancing in its direction. A lone

  tree stood there.

  The tree chuckled-not the rustling of leaves, but a distinctively human sound. "So that is how I appear to you."

  "Where am I?" I asked the tree.

  "This place is not yours to know, for your stay will be fleeting." A pang of regret bloomed in my chest at its words.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Can't I stay? I don't want to go back."

  "Fret

  not, child. You will not return either. Raised in the slums, with no

  clean air to breathe, your kindness met only with distrust and

  hatred-that was your life. I recognize your trials. From now onward, you

  will walk the path of a healer."

  "A healer?" I frowned. "Like the priests?"

  The

  thought disgusted me. Priests were men who did good deeds to look good,

  leaving as soon as that was accomplished. I wanted no part of their

  hypocrisy.

  "Similar

  but different," the tree replied, its tone unbothered. "Do not worry; I

  am certain you will find it to your liking. Before you leave, remember

  this: there are seven others. And once you wake again, close your eyes

  for twenty seconds."

  I didn't understand its words, but I nodded. The tree felt trustworthy-unfathomable and intimidating, but trustworthy.

  Soon, the world grew dark once again.