At the last second, I don't know by what force, I roll to the side to avoid the creature's blade. I quickly get up and, in a certain momentum, resume my run.

A cloud hides the sun, giving the forest an even more gloomy aspect. I run until I lose my breath. Each beat of my heart resonates like a war drum in my ears to the point where I can no longer hear what is happening around me. My breathing is ragged, but I can't afford to slow down. I know my life hangs by a thread.

Behind me, the beasts growl, emitting terrifying roars. Their heavy steps make the ground tremble under their feet. They are close, too close. But I can't afford to look back to see where they are. I must keep running, running for my life to have a chance to return to my world, to find the magician.

Suddenly, the piercing whistle of an arrow cuts through the air. I feel a presence disappear behind me. A guttural cry rings out, quickly muffled. One of the monsters has been hit. The arrow, precise and deadly, has struck its target. I am not able to see who shot it, but I thank them with all my heart. Hope is born in my heart. Maybe I can make it. Maybe I can survive. With one last effort, I accelerate. I disappear into the vegetation of the forest, which has thickened as I run. I take great care to leave the beasts and their angry growls behind me. I collapse to the ground in a daze, trembling. My heart beats so fast that it hurts. I could almost believe it is going to burst out of my chest. My eyes are blurred with tears. I get up, my knees shaking.

The beasts are still chasing me. I see them rushing towards me with fury in their eyes.

However, a horn sounds, quickly accompanied by a piercing neigh. A flash of golden light crosses the air, blinding me, and I cover my eyes. The monsters let out a shrill scream that is more like a roar. A blond elf, mounted on a horse as silver as the moon, emerges from the shadows, not far from me. Although it happens very quickly, I can see his blue eyes, shining with fierce determination as he draws a bow, an arrow already nocked and ready to be unleashed.

Almost simultaneously, a second figure emerges from between the trees. This time, an elf, with long black hair tied in a loose braid, riding a horse as white as snow itself. Her teal blue eyes glint with a wild light as she brandishes a gleaming sword, ready for battle.

The two elves charge, their horses galloping with such force that the ground seems to tremble beneath their weight. The blond elf plunges into the fray, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. The dark-haired elf stays back, her arrows flying with lethal accuracy, taking down the trolls one by one.

The battle rages on, but the two elves remain unyielding. They fight with a grace and agility that seem almost supernatural, each movement perfectly synchronized with the other. It is certain that I could never fight like this. Petrified by the violence of the exchanged blows, I cannot move.

The woman dismounts and with remarkable agility, she attacks the massive and brutal creatures advancing towards her, their growls echoing through the air.

The elf dances with supernatural agility, astonishingly dodging the heavy attacks of the monsters with an aerial grace. Each movement of her sword is precise, slicing through the air with quiet force. She strikes with deadly precision, her blade whistling through the air to fend off the trolls one by one. The creatures' blood flows, with a strange appearance and color, not red but blue. I believe nothing can surprise me anymore. Violent and precise in her movements, some beasts lose limbs.

Despite their overwhelming numbers, the elf shows no signs of fear. On the contrary, she seems to thrive in the fight, her determination growing with each beast she repels. Her companion remains on horseback, shooting with a dexterity that is certainly less precise. I try to find A. He is nowhere to be seen; he must have hidden somewhere. Oh, how I wish I could be a little mouse at this moment. To be able to hide. One of the monsters suddenly appears to my right. Surprised, I hit it with my bag. Bad plan, it only made it angrier. I gulp as I see its weapon ready to strike me. I barely dodge, its blade hitting the ground and shattering a root. What a mess I'm in. It stands up with its weapon pointed at me. As it lunges at me, an arrow pierces it, and it falls dead. I barely hold back a gag.

The blond elf dismounted from his horse and now stands behind the corpse of the horrible creature. My heart leaps in my chest when he gives me a smile before turning back to his comrade to fight.

Part of me wants to flee, the other to stay. I don't know which is the right course of action. Even though some heads fall, the creatures continue to fight relentlessly. I grab my knife, which is very useless in this situation.

I grip the handle of the small weapon and try to be alert to all the movements and sounds around me. Ah! If someone had told me one day that I would find myself in the middle of an unknown world, fighting such monsters; I wouldn't have believed it!

There is nothing worse than doubt and anxiety in such an instance. Yet these are the two feelings that inhabit me at the moment, and I have to deal with them. I dodge one of the monsters, which collapses inert on its stomach near me with a cry of agony. It has a gaping wound on its back. I step aside, afraid it might get up. I stare at the wound and the blue blood gushing from it. I put a hand over my mouth. I've always had a hard time with blood. For example, I've never been able to watch a horror movie. Too scared of gratuitous violence. Likewise, war movies have never really attracted me. That was more Charlotte's thing.

With a knot in my stomach and especially because I am useless in this fight, I just watch the determination of these two elves. The blows are exchanged, and soon there are almost no enemies left to fight. Despite being fully concentrated, the ebony-haired elf cannot escape one of the blows. The club of one of them strikes her shoulder. She lets out a cry but does not give up and immediately strikes back.

Little by little, the remaining beasts abandon the fight and flee. They disappear into the forest. The elf sheaths his sword and places a hand on his injured shoulder, blood oozing from the wound. The blond elf approaches her after retrieving the two horses. Now it remains to be seen what they will do with me. Although they saved me, at any moment, like Miss Green Apple, they could turn against me.

I should leave now. That's what my conscience tells me. I start to back away, making sure they don't notice me.

-It's not safe to wander here, in this season and on Troll territory, the man declares. I turn to him, and he approaches me. Discretion is lost.

-Another ignorant foreigner, the elf grumbles.

-Come on, the handsome elf reproaches.

-Let's return to the camp, she declares, mounting her horse. He nods. Are they going to leave me all alone? I grimace, looking again at the lifeless body of the troll, as this creature is called. I have heard of trolls in the fairy tales I read when I visited Madame Michelle's bookstore. In the books, they are mostly creatures. There are many different descriptions of trolls to my knowledge. Some have multiple heads, snouts like pigs, large horns, and others even have two heads. For some, they are beings that are one with the rock.

He mounts his horse and extends a hand to me. I am surprised.

-Well, are you deciding?

He grabs my hand despite my hesitation and effortlessly lifts me behind him.

- Hold on.

Embarrassed, I cling to him under the disdainful gaze of the other elf. I sincerely wonder where A. is. Where has he hidden? However, I am not too worried about him. After all, he is a cat; he has all the tricks imaginable.

The horse neighs and starts its run. I have never ridden a horse; there is a first time for everything. Without realizing it, I cling to the elf. The horse's hooves pound the forest floor, creating a rhythmic melody that resonates through the trees. Leaves crackle under its passage, birds fly from their perches, and the forest seems to come alive in response to their passage. The woman follows us closely.