A soft voice drifted through the haze.
"Ah… you've finally stirred. That was quite a tumble through the veil. Move your limbs, young traveler — best to see what the crossing left intact."
Gaelstrom's head throbbed. Every sound seemed distant, distorted, as though heard through water. He blinked against the blinding light, the taste of metal on his tongue. A shadow loomed above him — a tall figure cloaked in grey, edges blurred by the radiance that surrounded them.
"Ugh… what? Who—who are you? Where am I?" His voice came out hoarse, dry as if he'd swallowed dust.
"Easy there, young one. Count your fingers, wiggle your toes — make sure you're still in one piece. I'll wait."
The voice was calm. Steady. The kind that carried authority without needing to raise itself.
Groaning, Gaelstrom forced himself upright. Grass — impossibly soft, like silk — brushed against his palms. It shimmered faintly under the sunlight, each blade glinting with a subtle blue hue. He glanced around, eyes darting across the unfamiliar clearing. The air was crisp, unnaturally so, every breath filling his lungs like the first taste of spring after a long winter.
"I said, who are you, and where the hell am I!?" he shouted, panic edging into his tone.
The figure chuckled softly, voice still calm but with a strange, ancient timbre. "Good. Still got your lungs too. That's a relief."
When Gaelstrom's vision cleared, he finally saw him — the man standing a few paces away, leaning on a gnarled wooden staff. His robes were a deep, weathered grey, threaded with faint silver lines that caught the light when he moved. His eyes shimmered faintly, like starlight trapped in still water.
"Glad to see you're all in one piece," the man said, tilting his head with a faint smile.
"Who… who are you?" Gaelstrom managed, swallowing hard.
"Me?" The man smiled again. "Names are fragile things, boy. But you may call me the Grey Wizard. It was I who called you across."
The words sank in slowly, one by one.
Gaelstrom frowned. "What do you mean you called me? Wasn't it the instructions on that piece of paper?"
The Grey Wizard's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Ah… the Instructions for the Passage Beyond. So the parchment found you after all."
"Found me? What are you talking about? I bought it from some dodgy shop downtown—" Gaelstrom stopped, the memory flickering — a dim, narrow shop that hadn't been there the day before, the faint scent of candle wax and ink, the way the clerk's face blurred when he tried to recall it.
"Bought?" The old man's chuckle was dry, like the crackle of old parchment. "No, boy. That page has no merchant, no maker. It appears only to those the Passage chooses."
"Chooses?" Gaelstrom muttered, shaking his head. "That doesn't make any damn sense!"
The wizard's expression remained gentle. "The ritual did not bring you here. It merely opened the door. You walked through it of your own will."
"Okay, I get it now." He crossed his arms, trying to mask the tremor in his voice.
The wizard smiled faintly, staff resting against his shoulder. "Ah, I'm glad you've come to your senses, young man—"
"Yeah, yeah — this is a prank, right? Some kind of hidden camera show?" Gaelstrom interrupted, pointing at the trees. "I don't remember signing a waiver or consenting to any of this, so whoever's behind it—" He spun around, scanning the strange landscape. "—you've got the wrong guy!"
The wizard raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering behind his eyes. "I know not what a 'camera' is, but I assure you, no jest is being played here."
"No! This place— it's a setup. It's all fake! I'm not falling for this!" Gaelstrom turned in frantic circles. The clearing stretched far wider than it had any right to, rimmed by trees that shimmered with veins of light beneath their bark. The air shimmered faintly, distorting his vision like heat rising from asphalt. "Where are the cameras? The crew? Bring me back home! Now!"
The old man tilted his head slightly, eyes soft but unreadable. "Home? You crossed beyond the passage, Gaelstrom. There is no road that leads back the way you came."
Gaelstrom froze.
His name.
He hadn't said it.
"What the hell are you talking about!? There's always a way back — there has to be!" He took a step forward, fists clenched, anger cutting through his fear. "Wait a damn minute— how the hell do you know my name? I haven't even said it!"
The old man's expression didn't change. "Names are curious things," he said softly. "They travel farther than the body… sometimes even before the soul arrives."
"That's — that's insane. You're insane!" Gaelstrom's breathing quickened. The grass underfoot pulsed faintly, as if responding to his heartbeat.
A small smile touched the old man's lips. "Perhaps I am. But I am not the one who stepped beyond the passage seeking purpose and meaning."
"How do you know that? I—" Gaelstrom froze mid-sentence. The words caught in his throat as the old man simply vanished — not moved, not stepped, but ceased. The space where he'd stood folded in on itself like ripples closing over water.
A breath brushed the back of Gaelstrom's neck.
"Because I was the one who pulled you through the passage."
Gaelstrom spun around, stumbling backward. The man now stood behind him — calm, his robes untouched by the wind. Beneath his feet, faint blue runes pulsed in a circle, casting ghostly light on the grass.
Gaelstrom's heart pounded. Every instinct screamed that it was impossible — no camera trick, no illusion, no projection. His mind scrambled for logic, for the comfort of science, but nothing fit.
(What was that?)
(That wasn't a trick. No wires, no mirrors… he just vanished.)
(Was that— magic? If it's real, then that means…)
His chest tightened. Every breath felt heavier, as though the air itself carried weight. The world around him — the towering trees, the twin suns overhead, the faint hum in the air like distant machinery — suddenly felt too vivid to be fake.
(Then that means… I'm really not on Earth anymore.)
"Hahaha… finally, young traveler — do you believe me now?" the Grey Wizard asked, eyes twinkling.
Gaelstrom swallowed hard, throat dry. "If that's the case… then this really is a brand-new world."
The realization hit like thunder. His pulse slowed, a strange calm washing over the fear. For the first time, he looked — really looked — at the world around him.
The clearing stretched endlessly, a field of crystalline grass swaying under a sky painted in colors he'd never seen. Two suns hung low on the horizon — one pale gold, the other a faint azure disc that shimmered like liquid glass. The air was filled with faint motes of light, drifting lazily, each glowing softly before winking out like fireflies. In the distance, mountains floated — floated — their peaks wrapped in spiraling clouds.
Gaelstrom turned slowly, breath catching. Every direction felt alive, breathing, humming. The light was too real, the scents too pure — sweet, sharp, wild. Somewhere far off, a haunting cry echoed, deep and melodic, like a whale's song carried through mountains.
"This… this isn't a TV show," he whispered. His voice trembled. "This is real."
The wizard chuckled softly, eyes half-closed. "It takes some time for the mind to accept what the soul already knows. You are between worlds now, Gaelstrom — the threshold between what was and what may yet be."
"I…" He hesitated. The words felt heavy. "I didn't think it would actually work. I just—" He laughed once, short and bitter. "I just wanted things to mean something. My life. My existence. I didn't think—"
"That longing," said the wizard, his tone deepening, "is what the Passage responds to. Not the ritual, not the blood, but the yearning. Desire is the key that unlocks the boundary."
Gaelstrom lowered his gaze. The grass shimmered faintly beneath his hands. "And now what? I'm just supposed to… live here? In this weird fantasy world?"
"Live," the wizard echoed softly, "and learn. The world beyond has its own designs for those who cross. You sought meaning — it shall find you, though not always kindly."
The weight of the words settled in his chest like stone. He wanted to protest, to scream, to demand his way back — but the more he looked around, the more the idea of home began to blur. The city streets, the flickering streetlights, the endless grind of his three jobs — they all felt distant, unreal. As if they'd been part of a long, dull dream.
The wizard's voice softened. "You will come to understand in time. For now, the veil has not yet fully closed behind you. The world will feel… strange. Unsteady. It is watching you as you watch it."
"Watching me?" Gaelstrom repeated, unease crawling up his spine.
"Yes," the wizard said simply. "Every new soul leaves ripples."
Gaelstrom took a step back, eyes darting to the shadows at the edge of the clearing. For a moment, he swore he saw movement — shapes just beyond the treeline, shifting with slow, deliberate grace. The air seemed to hum louder, as if whispering in a language his mind couldn't grasp.
The wizard raised a hand, and the sensation faded like a held breath released. "Fear not. They are merely curious."
Gaelstrom exhaled shakily. "You say that like it's supposed to make me feel better."
The Grey Wizard smiled faintly. "You'll grow used to it. All travelers do."
He turned away, cloak rustling softly in the wind. Gaelstrom watched as faint motes of blue light followed his movement, as if drawn to him. Every inch of the man radiated calm — not the calm of peace, but of understanding, of age.
"I still don't understand any of this," Gaelstrom said quietly.
"You will," the wizard replied. "Understanding comes not before the journey, but because of it."
And with that, the old man began to walk. His staff struck the ground with a sound like ringing glass, leaving trails of faint light in his wake. Gaelstrom hesitated for only a moment before following, the soft blue grass bending beneath his steps.
Each one echoed differently, as if the ground beneath him wasn't entirely solid — as though the world itself were testing him, deciding whether to let him stand upon it.
He looked up once more at the twin suns, and the enormity of it all finally sank in.
A new world.
A new beginning.
A meaningful purpose.
Maybe… maybe this was what he had asked for all along.