In a thick forest where the trees rose so high they seemed to pierce the heavens, an eerie silence lingered beneath the canopy.
The smallest trees stretched at least over thirty meters tall, while the largest reached several hundred in length.
The ecosystem below was dense and fantastical, so alive and overgrown that one could only wonder what might exist beyond those layers of green.
Distant howls and roars echoed through the wilderness, giving a general idea of the unseen beasts that prowled within.
Whatever creatures called this place home, one could only hope never to meet any of them.
Several meters above the canopy, a lone wyvern soared overhead.
Its great, black-scaled body, massive by ordinary measure looked strangely small against the overwhelming immensity of the forest.
And if one strained their eyes, they might barely make out a small human figure perched atop its back, like a speck of dust clinging to the creature's spine.
A day had passed since Oliver fled Tidefall.
He had flown northward, directly over the Forbidden Forest, a place he remembered as eerie and perilous.
Though he could have chosen the safer route along the roads, he was far more wary of the royal army's pursuit more than whatever abominations lurked beneath these trees.
The beasts, he could avoid, if he was spotted by the king's troops, he would be chased.
Now, he flew a hundred meters above the tallest branches.
What was the worst that could happen?
His physical condition was not looking too good though.
His grip on the reins was weak, his eyes half-lidded from exhaustion.
At times they closed completely for a heartbeat before snapping open again in alarm.
And hunger constantly gnawed at him.
The sun burned bright in the sky above, but the wind was mercilessly cold at this height.
It slammed into him with biting force, and his body shivered uncontrollably.
One could only imagine how frozen he must have been the night before.
He wore nothing but a thin tunic and pants, the fabric far too frail to shield him from the elements.
The only silver lining was that the chill dulled the searing pain in his wounded shoulder.
The bleeding had slowed, though his entire left side was still stained crimson.
But hunger, cold, and exhaustion weren't his only enemies.
The blood loss had left him lethargic, dizzy. Each breath felt heavier than the last.
He could barely stay upright on the wyvern's back, and at this rate, he was closer to collapsing than landing anywhere safe.
He groaned when his stomach growled. "Fuck," he muttered weakly. "I should find a place to land soon…"
Turning his head, he scanned the endless expanse of green stretching in every direction.
There was no end to the forest, no visible edge, no sign of the lands he had come from.
The sheer scale of it was absurd.
By his estimate, he had been flying over the forest for at least three hours, easily three hundred miles.
"How big is this forest, really!?" he muttered under his breath.
From the maps he'd studied, he knew that the Forbidden Forest was only ever drawn in approximation.
No one had ever charted its interior; the cartographers had mapped only the lands around it. Not one person who ventured deep within ever returned.
Just as his thoughts began to drift, a flicker of movement caught his eye.
Something massive moved in the periphery of his vision, to his left.
Too fast!
Before he could react, his mount roared, and Oliver jerked the reins sharply to the right.
Then — BAM!
A gigantic green vine lashed upward, slamming into the wyvern's side with bone-crushing force.
Skrrreeeee!
The beast shrieked in pain as it was knocked from the sky.
"Shit!" Oliver shouted, his heart lurching as they plummeted.
The wyvern struggled to right itself, but the impact had shattered its balance. The canopy rushed up to meet them.
Branches, thick as boulders, filled his vision.
CRASH!
The wyvern tore through the upper boughs, smashing through vines and splintering wood as it fell.
CRACK! BAM!
Each collision echoed like thunder through the forest.
Tangled vines whipped around them as if alive, latching onto the wyvern's wings and limbs as they plunged.
Oliver screamed in frustration, his mind reeling from the chaos — and then —
WHAM!
They hit a massive branch. The impact was brutal. A sickening crunch resounded as the wyvern's bones gave way.
Oliver gasped, the air punched out of his lungs. He spat saliva and blood, his eyes wide with disbelief."Fff—fuck…" he croaked.
The wyvern slid helplessly along the branch, then toppled over the side.
Oliver flailed, desperate to grab onto anything despite the firestorm of pain surging through his body.
The world spun. He fell again. And by some divine mercy, the vines caught him, wrapping around his body, slowing his descent. They tore and snapped under his weight, but they broke his fall just enough.
When he finally hit the ground, it was hard — but survivable.
A few meters away, his wyvern was not so fortunate. The vines that had tried to catch it gave way completely, and the beast crashed with a deafening THUD that sent a tremor through the forest floor.
It lay there, heaving weakly, hot steam and billowing smoke rising from its nostrils as it roared in agony.
Oliver groaned in pain, choking for a few seconds on his own spit as he tried to breathe. It took him a moment to steady himself, drawing in sharp, ragged breaths before he slowly pushed up to his feet. His body staggered, vision hazy, the world spinning around him.
Then the pain hit.
A searing wave that made him wince and clutch his right arm, only to freeze when he saw its condition.
His hand was broken, twisted at an awkward angle just below the elbow, mangled beyond easy repair.
"Just great," he muttered under his breath. Still, he couldn't help thinking how lucky he was to have escaped with just that.
"What the hell knocked me out of the sky?" he asked aloud to no one in particular, voice hoarse.