The Trial of Want

They left the hut at dusk, but the woman's words clung to them like smoke.

"One of you will have to give something up."

As the others set up a small fire and tried to pretend things were normal, the woman pulled Rumi aside.

"It begins tonight," she said, pressing a finger to his chest. "Not with blood, but with truth. You will walk alone. The forest will show you what you want most."

"And then?" Rumi asked.

"Then you choose if it's worth losing."

He didn't tell the others when he left.

He just slipped into the trees, spear in hand, heart pounding like a drum.

The forest felt different now—quieter, as if waiting. Moonlight filtered through branches like silver threads. The path curved into shadow, then opened into a clearing ringed with flowers glowing faintly blue.

At the center stood a stone basin.

And beside it… Sarah.

Or something that looked like her.

She wore no armor. No bow. Just a thin, forest-colored wrap that caught the light and moved like mist. Her eyes were soft, her smile real.

"Rumi," she said. "You came."

He stepped back. "Is this real?"

She tilted her head. "Does it matter?"

Silence.

Then she approached him—slowly, gently—and touched his hand.

"You hide everything behind jokes. You act like you don't care. But you do."

Rumi's voice was low. "I care too much."

Sarah's fingers slid along his jaw, warm and grounding. "Then show me."

He kissed her.

It wasn't rushed. It wasn't desperate. It was slow, sure, and full of every word he hadn't said. His hands found her waist. Hers slid around his neck. They sank to the moss-covered ground, breath mingling, hearts pounding.

And then she whispered, "If you stay here, with me, we never have to go back."

He froze.

"What?"

"The others. The danger. Mia. David. All of it. We can disappear into the forest. Be free. Just us."

His heart twisted. Part of him wanted that.

Wanted her.

But something wasn't right.

"You're not her," he whispered.

She blinked. "What?"

"You're what I want," he said. "But not what I need."

The light flickered.

The clearing darkened.

The vision began to crumble—petals turning to ash, the basin shattering.

And now he stood alone.

The real Sarah burst into the clearing from the shadows, breathless.

"I followed you," she said. "I shouldn't have, but... I had to."

She looked around. "What happened?"

"I was tested," Rumi said. "I think I passed."

She stepped closer. "What did you see?"

"You," he said, without hesitation.

Sarah searched his eyes.

Then kissed him.

Not a vision.

Not a test.

Just real.

And for once, Rumi didn't run.

He leaned in, arms around her, forehead to forehead, whispering, "I didn't choose a fantasy. I chose you."

The forest rustled.

Satisfied.