Eli was going to vomit; he could feel it. He had been fed a little over half an hour ago and already it was threatening to come back up. He wasn't sure if it was from not eating for a long time or from everything that had happened since he woke in the tree that morning.

It was dark outside, the stars shining brightly above him. He had never seen so many before, especially not back home. He lived in the suburbs, where it was always bright and there were never many stars to be seen.

Here, wherever here was, the only lights were the candles that lit up the houses and shops around him. Sitting on the porch of a wooden shack that could barely be called a house, Eli was free to stare in wonder at the brilliance in the sky above him.

Or he would have been if he wasn't too busy resting his head between his knees in an attempt to keep the little amount of food he had eaten in his stomach. He groaned, staring at the pale dirt in front of him and gulping loudly.

The old man, whose name he had learned to be Amos, had told him many things. Many confusing things that didn't make any sense to Eli no matter how hard he thought about it. Amos hadn't been able to speak much English, only a few words he had learned from a friend a long time ago.

Amos had taken him from the circle of terrified and angry men, yelling at them constantly. Eli was dragged away, protests either ignored or not understood, he wasn't sure which. He had been rushed around buildings and scared people until he found himself at the rundown shack that Amos apparently owned and lived in. There he had been fed and allowed to bathe. His cuts had been treated to the best of the old man's abilities, cleaned and wrapped in a bandage. Amos had told him in his broken English that they would be fine.

Eli had been sat down at a rickety table, probably as old as Amos was from the look of it. The old man told him as much as he could, and as much as Eli could understand. Which, as it turned out, wasn't all that much.

Amos called the land Arumni and referred to the town only as 'the Village'. Over and over again he would gesture to Eli and say the word 'reflection' as if Eli was supposed to know what the word meant. It had taken a while, Amos not understanding Eli's words and Eli not understanding Amos's, but eventually, the old man understood that the young boy had no idea what a 'reflection' was.

What he had gotten out of the conversation was that he had come through his mirror into Arumni and that there was no way of getting back. Well, there was, but he would most likely die before he made it. He had only been able to make out a few words like 'evil', 'castle', 'death', and 'death of the land', but it had been enough for him to piece some things together. Enough for him to figure out that there was no way he could get home on his own.

Overwhelmed by the little info Amos had given him, he ended up sitting outside, trying to keep his food in his stomach. He wanted to go home so badly, but he also wanted to understand why he was in Arumni in the first place, and not just because he fell through his mirror. He wanted to know why he had been attacked.

He didn't even know Amos had followed him outside until the man told him that they would be leaving in the morning. The old man knew someone who might be able to help him get back home. Eli only groaned in reply, sitting up and playing with the bottom of his shirt.

He went inside to sleep then, not once glancing at the field of stars above him. He was too distracted, restless, to even sleep properly. More nightmares, this time of his mother and his home and the other things he would never return to. He kept waking up to the dark unfamiliar room at the back of Amos's house, covered in sweat and completely exhausted.

He woke up once more when the sun was just starting to rise above the horizon, irritated and exhausted. He could hear noises coming from outside his room, where the tiny rundown kitchen was. Eli slowly got out of the lumpy bed, padding across the wooden floorboards and out into the kitchen.

Amos was packing a leather backpack with food and a couple of flasks of water on the rickety table they had been sat at last night when they were talking. He barely glanced at Eli when he walked out, only pointed at a small pile of folded clothes next to the bag. Eli took them wordlessly, making his way back to the room to get changed.

He changed from the dirty jacket and jeans into a faded white tunic and brown pants. Not the greatest thing to wear in his opinion, but he had no right to complain about it. Sighing, he looked out the little window, blinking in confusion at what he saw.

It wasn't the view that was the issue, no, it was that he couldn't see his reflection in the glass pane. He moved closer until he could touch the pane and still he could not see his face. He couldn't see the shaggy brown mop on his head that desperately needed a haircut or the green eyes that had little flecks of yellow in them if you looked close enough. He couldn't see the freckles on his nose or the peach fuzz that covered his chin. He couldn't see any of it.

Amos walked in then, just as he was beginning to panic. Before Eli could even say a word the old man repeated the same word he had said when he first saved Eli from the townsmen. It had to be what he had meant by 'reflection', there was nothing else it could be.

Amos pulled him from the room, thrusting the leather bag into his hands and pushing him out the front door of the little house. The old man led the way, walking as fast as his legs could carry him. The townspeople stared at him as he passed, the same fear in their eyes as the day before. Amos hadn't explained why they were so scared, but Eli wasn't completely sure if he wanted to know. He felt as though the answer was one that would only make him feel worse.

He was told only that they were going to get help, nothing else, as they wandered past the edge of the small town. Hills and farmland stretched on towards the horizon, where the familiar line of trees sat. He was sure it wasn't the same forest as before, that was much further away.

The forest seemed to be where they headed. They followed the dirt road as it twisted around dying farms and hills. Sunrise was long gone by the time the trees started to surround them, the rays beating down on their backs. They didn't speak much at all as they travelled, with Eli still thinking through everything he had seen and heard over the last few nights.

He tried to ask where they were going, getting nothing in reply. Tall trees enveloped them, these ones much more lively than the ones he had seen on his first night. Spotlights of sun shone through the leaves, leaving other spots drab and grey.

Amos stopped suddenly and Eli almost didn't notice. Silently, the old man knocked on the trunk of a nearby tree with a clenched fist. Confused, the boy watched in silence as a rope ladder dropped to the ground. Amos gestured to him, telling him with his hands to climb.

Eli did as he was told, hoping that it wouldn't lead to something dangerous. His mind supplied him with images of his attackers standing at the top of the ladder, waiting for him to climb up so they could finally catch him. The thought made him want to stop, but looking down told him that Amos was right below him. There was no way he could stop now.

Once he got close to the top a hand reached down to help him up. Hesitantly Eli grabbed it, pulling himself over the edge of a wooden platform. He gasped at the sight in front of him, barely paying attention to what was going on around him.

It was like something out of a fantasy game. The fortress was hidden in the thick leaves and branches of the tall trees. Ropes and ladders led up the trunks of the trees to wooden shacks the same size as Amos's. Rope bridges connected a countless number of them together, the tops of the trees becoming a labyrinth of rope and wood.

He was brought back to reality by the sound of yelling. It was a familiar voice, despite speaking unfamiliar words, but it was also a voice he was sure he would never hear again. And not just because he was in a completely different place.

His best friend, Kory. A blond haired, brown eyed genius who was much taller than anyone had expected him to be, especially when he had such short parents. Always clean, always wore his glasses, always kept his hair shaved short, always ironed his clothes to keep them from having creases.

This was not the Kory he saw. This Kory's hair was long and greasy like it hadn't been washed in a long time, sitting down to his shoulders. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks, except for a place on his chin that looked to be a scar. His glasses were replaced with purple bags. His clothes were dirty versions of what Eli himself wore.

Eli cried out loudly, taking a step away from the Kory lookalike, who had been yelling at Amos and gesturing towards him. The pair looked to him and the floodgates opened. He yelled and demanded, wanting answers for the many questions he had stored away in his head.

He wanted to know why Kory was here, why he couldn't see himself in the window, why parts of the land were dying. Why he was there, why he had been attacked in the first place. His heart was pounding, his throat burning as he yelled. There were tears in his eyes that he couldn't even find the effort to be embarrassed about.

In his hysteria he didn't notice the Kory lookalike walking towards him, a hand outstretched. A warm palm pressed against his shoulder and immediately he felt calm. It was as if all the anger had rushed out of him at once.

Hand still on his shoulder, the Kory lookalike lead him across a swaying bridge and into a wooden hut on another tree, Amos following close behind. They sat. He spoke. Amos translated. The whole time the man who looked like his best friend kept his hand on Eli's shoulder.

It wasn't Kory at all, he quickly discovered. It was a version of Kory that belonged to Arumni, much like how Eli belonged to Earth. His name, so similar, was Korian, and he was the leader of wherever Eli happened to be. Through lengthy explanation the two of them finally made Eli understand.

Everyone in Arumni had a lookalike on Earth, and everyone on Earth had a counterpart in Arumni. They kept each other in their own worlds, most of the time, like guardians protecting something sacred. It meant that somewhere in this world there would be another version of his mother, of his school friends, of everyone he had ever met.

Unbidden, his mind flashed back to the last time he had seen his face. The malicious grin that had spread across his features. The eyes of a man that looked ready to kill, no questions asked. It meant that somewhere in Arumni, there was a version of him too, one that seemed to be trying to kill Eli with all he had.