Arian woke to a sound he had never heard before.
it was a strange mixture of footsteps against stone, distant conversations,and unfamiliar scents in the air. He slowly opened his eyes, only to be met with a clear blue sky and stone buildings with slanted roofs-structures that looked as though they belonged to the middle ages.
Arian:"where is this?"
Arian:"Am i dreaming?"
Slowly, almost unwillingly, he lifted his hand and bit into his skin.
The pain was instant—real, undeniable.
He clenched his jaw, staring at his hand as the truth settled in. This world wasn't fading. He wasn't waking up.
Arian:"So does this mean I've been summoned into a parallel world?!"
Arian started walking slowly, his legs unsteady, his mind racing. without realizing it, his steps carried him toward a fountain in the center of the square.
He sat down on the edge of the fountain.
taking a deep breath, Arian raised his hand in front of him and closed his eyes.
Arian:"Magic. A skill. Anything
He tried again, clenching his fingers, whispering meaningless words, waiting for something to happen.
nothing happened.
His hand dropped to his side, a heavy realization. No magic. No ability.
He stood and approached a nearby vegetable stall.
wooden crates were stacked neatly, filled with fresh produce. Above the stall hung a wooden sign, its surface worn with age. Strange symbols were carved into it- letters unlike anything he had seen before.
Arian frowned.
A faint chill ran through him.
Arian:"So even the language is different here."
Behind the stall stood an elderly man with rough features, red hair streaked with gray, and eyes that looked at Arian with faint contempt.
Arian:"Excuse me,"
Arian asked carefully
Arian:"where is this?"
The old man scoffed lightly, his tone sharp
The old man:"this is the town of Navorak."
he said, speaking down to him.
The old man:"Those are some weird clothes. Are you traveling?"
Before Arian could respond, a figure passed behind him, drawing the old man's attention. His expression shifted slightly as he lowered his voice.
The old man:"That's one of the king's dogs, Jassim of the royal guard. Came all the way from the capital… for a noble here."
Arian followed the man's gaze, he saw a man a little bit older than him, his hair was a light shade of blue, almost pale, fading into white at the tips as if it had been dyed deliberately.
Well-fitted armor covered his body, clean and carefully maintained. A sword hung at his side. Every step he took was steady and controlled.
After a brief pause, he turned back to the old man.
Arian:"Where is the nearest city?"
The old man:"The nearest city?"
He muttered.
The old man:"that would be Aetia. it lies to the east, beyond the Hollow Mountains.
Arian:"How do I get there?"
The old man let out a short, dry laugh
The old man:"On foot, unless you've got coin for a horse. Follow the eastern path. It'll take you through the Shadow Woods first. After that… nothing but rock and wind."
He paused, then added with a hint of warning.
The old man:"Travel alone, and keep your head down. The mountains aren't kind to strangers."
Arian nodded slowly, committing every word to memory.
The old man:" You can always come back."
With no better option, he thanked the old man and stepped away from the stall.
He had taken only a few steps when a sudden shout echoed nearby.
???:"Watch it!"
Arian barely had time to react. Someone collided with him from the side, knocking him off balance. He stumbled forward, nearly falling onto the stone ground before a firm hand caught his arm and pulled him upright.
???:"Careful."
The voice was calm—cold, even.
Arian looked up.
it was someone he saw moments ago
The pale blue hair, fading into white at the tips. The polished armor.
Jassim.
Jassim:"You're not from Navorak."
For a moment, Jassim said nothing. Then he glanced toward the eastern road, where a group of merchants were gathering near loaded wagons. Horses snorted quietly as crates were secured with rope.
Elio:""I'm heading to Aetia,with them."
Arian:"Aetia…? I was told that's the nearest city.'
Jassim looked back it him
Jassim:"Are you planning to cross the hollow mountains alone? Foolish."
He turned halfway toward the road, then paused.
"If you're going east, stay close. The traders hired guards for a reason."
Arian:"You're… letting me come with you?"
Jassim didn't look back.
"Don't misunderstand. I'm not responsible for you."
After a brief moment, Arian followed.
The merchants eyed him curiously as he joined the group, their wagons creaking as the caravan began to move. The town of Navorak slowly faded behind them, replaced by open land and the distant silhouette of mountains waiting on the horizon.
Arian walked near the rear of the caravan, stealing brief glances at Jassim riding ahead.
He didn't know why a knight of the royal guard was willing to tolerate him.
*****************************************************************************************
The caravan reached the edge of the Shadow Woods as the sun began to sink.
At first glance, the forest looked no different from any other—tall trees clustered tightly together, their branches intertwining overhead, blocking much of the fading light. Yet the moment they crossed the tree line, something changed. The air grew heavy. Sounds dulled, as if the forest itself was swallowing them.
No birds sang.
No insects stirred.
The merchants noticed it almost immediately. Conversations died down, replaced by uneasy glances and tightened grips on reins and weapons. Even the horses slowed their pace, snorting nervously, their ears flicking back and forth.
Jassim's expression hardened.
He rode closer to the front of the caravan, one hand resting near the hilt of his sword, pale blue hair catching the dim light beneath the trees. His eyes moved constantly, scanning the shadows between trunks and roots.
Guard:"This forest…It shouldn't be this quiet."
Another merchant swallowed. "Shadow Woods never had monsters. Not like this."
Arian felt it too—a pressure in his chest, subtle but growing. Every instinct screamed that something was wrong. He stayed close to the wagons, his hands trembling slightly as he looked around, searching for movement in the darkness.
Then the shadows shifted.
At first, it looked like the trees themselves were moving. Long shapes stretched unnaturally between the trunks, separating from the darkness. One by one, they stepped forward.
The creatures were tall—too tall. Their bodies were thin to the point of being grotesque, ribs clearly visible beneath pitch-black skin that seemed to absorb light. Their limbs were elongated, arms dragging almost to the ground, bending at angles that made the eye recoil.
No one knew what they were.
A merchant screamed, pointing."What in the hell are those?!"
Another trader shouted in terror, "I've heard stories! Creatures like that were seen in the North Desert—but they shouldn't be here!"
The monsters moved before anyone could react.
They lunged from the shadows with terrifying speed.
Chaos erupted.
Guards rushed forward, steel clashing. The creatures shrieked—high, distorted sounds that scraped against the ears.
"Jassim!" someone shouted.
Jassim stepped ahead of the caravan without hesitation.
Jassim:"Stay behind me,"
he ordered sharply.
He raised one hand, arcane symbols briefly flaring into existence. A burst of blue flame roared from his palm, engulfing one of the creatures. The fire burned cold, freezing and scorching at the same time. The monster screamed as its body cracked, fragments shattering to the ground.
Jassim didn't stop.
With a swift motion, he cast again. Razor-sharp shards of ice formed instantly, launching forward like spears. They pierced through another creature, pinning it against a tree in a spray of blackened frost.
Yet more shadows moved.
They weren't retreating.
Arian stood frozen in place.
His mind raced, screaming at him to run, to fight, to do something. But he had nothing—no weapon, no magic, no idea how to survive this world. His body refused to obey, fear locking him in place as the battle raged around him.
Pain exploded through his chest.
Arian gasped as something tore through him from behind. Black hand burst out through his chest, slick with blood.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
His vision blurred violently. Blood streamed from the corners of his eyes as his body trembled uncontrollably. He tried to scream, but no sound came out—only a wet gasp.
The hand withdrew.
Arian collapsed forward, hitting the forest floor hard.
His fingers twitched weakly.
Then stopped.
Arian died there, in the Shadow Woods—
far from the world he came from,
before he ever learned how to survive this one.