The Other Side of the Story

The journey to the massive city took over a week. I followed behind every single one of Eli's footsteps, from the grove all the way to here. Each night, Eli and his party members would sit around the fire, their voices carrying under the moonlight. They’d take turns sharing their favorite memories of the city, their laughter echoing through the trees.

The fighter’s voice always boomed the loudest. “The seven-spice meat skewer with seven types of meat—nothing beats it,” he declared, poking at the fire with a stick. “One of the meats is ostrich.”

Ostrich? My ears perked up at the unfamiliar word. What’s an ostrich? I pictured a terrifying creature—an enormous bird with a long neck, just like he described. I shuddered at the thought.

As their voices faded to low whispers, my thoughts drifted back to the grove. The feel of the plush green grass beneath my paws. The way I’d burrow my nose into the earth, sniffing out mushrooms hidden from prying eyes. I closed my eyes, letting the memory soothe me.

But when I opened them, my gaze landed on the alchemist, seated near Eli. I frowned. Why did I have to look through his satchel and drink that potion? Actually, no, that wasn’t my fault. Why would you make something smell so good if you didn’t want it to be drunk? I huffed softly, flicking my tail against the ground.

Then my eyes shifted to Eli. His pointy green hat stood tall on his head, and his long, pointed ears seemed to lead seamlessly into the rest of his kind features. I’d been just a kit when he picked me from the litter to be his familiar. We’d been inseparable ever since, running through the grove together like the wind.

When Eli set out to be an adventurer, I was too scared to follow him beyond the grove. I always waited for his return, tail wagging as he stepped back into the clearing. He’d crouch down, placing his hands softly between my ears, and tell me stories while I curled up at his feet.

But now... I glanced down at my hands—my human hands. Only my ears and tails remained the same. Eli hadn’t wanted to leave me alone after my transformation. And honestly, I didn’t want him to.

Maybe being an adventurer wouldn’t be so bad—so long as I was by his side.

Now, my very human feet walk beside his as we enter the city. The harsh sunlight stings my eyes, and I squint, raising a hand to shield them.

“Come on,” one of the party members announces, striding ahead to lead the way. Eli and the others follow, their boots thudding confidently on the cobblestones.

I try my best to stay close to Eli, but—oh my goodness—there are so many distractions.

A sweet, floral aroma catches my nose as we pass a fruit stand. My ears twitch under my hood as I sniff the air. What is that orange one? It’s so bright! I’ve never seen anything like it. My gaze lingers on it until—bawk! A chicken squawks, flapping its wings with its feathers all ruffled. My mouth waters. That would make a tasty snack.

I shake myself and trot to catch up, but my feet halt in front of a glittering stall. Necklaces, rings, bracelets—there are so many shiny things. My eyes widen at the sight of something I’ve never seen before. Gold twirls, delicate and perfect. They look just like strands of hair. I reach out, mesmerized.

“Can I help you, lass?”

The voice is strong but friendly, and I shrink back in surprise. My heart pounds as I suddenly remember where I am. The noise around me seems to rise all at once—too loud, too close.

“Oh no, no thank you!” I squeak, pulling my arms back into my cloak. My cheeks burn as I back away. I have to find Eli.

I whip my head around, searching for his pointy green hat. My breath quickens. I can’t see it. I can’t see him.

Okay, okay, I’m not lost yet, I reassure myself, but the words feel hollow. My feet move forward on their own, my eyes darting through the sea of unfamiliar faces. The crowd jostles me, bodies pressing too close, voices blending into an unintelligible roar.

Tears prick at my eyes as panic rises in my chest. I can’t take this. My walk turns into a run, my breaths coming shallow and quick. Smoke, lavender, peaches, sweat—none of it smells like him.

None of it smells like home.

Overwhelmed, I duck into an alley. The noises press against me, loud and strange—metal screeching, people shouting, wheels clattering on stone. I press my back against the cool wall, trying to steady my breathing. In and out. Focus. Find something familiar.

I touch the wall, and my fingers brush over a creeping vine clinging stubbornly to the cracks. Its small leaves curl against my skin, soft and alive, and I cling to that feeling like a lifeline. It doesn’t belong here, not really, yet somehow it survives.

Above me, the sharp cries of swallows echo through the stone canyon. I tilt my head back and spot them darting between the rooftops, quick flashes of movement against the light. For a moment, the towering buildings around me seem different. Not so alien. They remind me of trees, their branches stretching high and blocking the sun, letting in only fractured beams of light. It could feel like home, I think, if I let it.

That’s why the druid wanted me to come. Not to stay in the grove where everything was safe and known, but to learn what he’s always told me: that home isn’t just one place. It’s something we carry with us. Something we build. And maybe he’s right, because... he’s my home. Wherever he is, that’s where I belong.

I take a deep breath as I step out of the alleyway, letting newfound confidence wash over me. Notes of lavender drift into my nostrils, soft and familiar. My ears perk up. Yes! I remember catching this scent earlier while running in circles, and I’d been torn over how it hadn’t calmed me like it usually does. But now it feels like a sign.

The smell leads me to an apothecary’s stall, where rows of open containers display herbs for customers to sample. Mint, rosemary, chamomile... their scents swirl together, soft and inviting. I lean down, staring at the herbs, letting their aromas settle my nerves.

“Can I help you with something?”

The apothecary steps out from behind her stall, brushing dust from her apron. She’s tall and thin, with soft wrinkles around her eyes, the kind that come from years of careful work.

“Oh, um, yes—actually, no. Not... not with this,” I stammer, my ears tucking toward the ground. Guilt pricks at me for distracting her from her work.

“It’s okay,” she says with a gentle smile, tilting her head. Her gaze flicks to my ears, and something kindles in her expression. “Are you lost, little fox?”

I blush at the pet name, heat creeping into my cheeks. “Actually, yes. I’m looking for the guild hall.”

She nods, motioning for me to follow. My heart flutters as I trail after her to the center of the street. She points toward the top of a building in the distance—a sturdy brown roof atop bright yellow bricks.

“You see that rooftop?” she says. “That’s the guild hall. Lots of adventurers flock there. You can’t miss it.”

Relief floods through me. I bow my head quickly. “Thank you so much!”

Before I can dash away, she stops me with a raised hand. “Wait here.”

She ducks back into her stall, rummaging for a moment before returning with a small vial in her hand. I hold out my palm, and she places it gently in my grasp. The faint scent of lavender wafts up from the vial.

“Lavender extract,” she says with a warm smile. “For when you need a moment to breathe. You’ll be just fine, little fox.”

My chest swells with gratitude as I clutch the vial to my heart. “Thank you. Truly.”

I turn to go, walking quickly toward the guild hall.

“Say hi to Eli!” she calls after me.

I freeze, my tail flicking in surprise. How did she know? The thought lingers for a moment before I shake it off. I can’t think about it now—Eli! I break into a run, the vial tucked safely in my hand. I have to find him.

Now I stand right in front of it, the muffled roar of voices coming through the door. My ears pull back as I push it open, stepping inside. The noise hits me all at once, waves of conversation swirling together. The room smells like sweat, wood, and the faint metallic tang of weapons.

I try to keep my ears flat, walking quickly so I don’t get swept up in the sea of people. Then I see it. Him.

That silly green hat is sticking up over the heads of the crowd. My heart leaps. “Eli!” I call out, darting toward him.

He turns, his face breaking into a grin. “Maple!”

I throw myself into his chest, burying my face in his cloak. His familiar scent—pine needles and earth—grounds me as his arms wrap around me. “I knew you’d find your way to me,” he says softly, his voice steady and warm.

“Of course,” I murmur, looking up at him with a wide smile. “Because you’re home.”

He chuckles and pats my head, right between my ears, just like he always does when he comes back to the grove after a long journey. But this time, his hand lingers. I blink as he pulls away and holds up a strand of my hair, wrapping something around it. I catch the golden glint before he lets it fall—a tiny maple leaf charm, gleaming against my hair.

“Here’s to us discovering new things together, Maple,” he says, standing tall and smiling down at me.

I touch the charm, warmth blooming in my chest as I glance around at the rest of the party. There’s so much I don’t know—so much I haven’t seen yet. But as I take in their faces and Eli’s calm, steady presence, I feel something new: excitement. “I can’t wait to see what’s next,” I whisper, ears perking up as I stand straighter.