The silence was a living thing. It had a certain weight and texture to it, pressing in on Hill from every angle imaginable. The only sounds were soft crunches from their boots on the ground and the whisper of rough cloth brushing against foliage. Hill's ragged breathing added to the noise, but barely. He tried to control it, but his nose wouldn't stop leaking, forcing him to breathe through his mouth.
The cold point of Ashen's knife hovered behind his neck. He did his best to keep pace. Why risk angering one of the more lethal members of the group just because his body couldn't keep up?
But it wasn't easy. The ground was rocky, with wooden spikes jutting through the weeds. Hill's foot had grazed one of the spikes earlier. He didn't want to feel that pain again.
Something kept catching his eye. Fibrous cotton heads that looked exactly like the dull grey material of the group's uniforms. They sprouted everywhere he looked as they marched forward.
They probably harvest these for their clothing. Same color too.
The trees, which had seemed strange before, now looked even stranger. Thanks to the brutal interrogation session, he'd picked up some useful information about this world.
These trees don't exist on Earth. No way. They're too tall. Hell, I can't even see how high up they go.
He hadn't really looked at them earlier. But now, surrounded by thick forest, he had nothing but time.
Their bark was deep royal purple, peeling away in thin, papery layers. The wood underneath was white like birch. Fungi crawled up the trunks, glowing a subtle green. This species definitely wasn't from Earth, which raised the question: Is this even Earth?
He'd assumed it wasn't Earth from the start. A subconscious acknowledgment to help him process everything that had happened. He'd died, been thrown into a trial, and now he was here. Maybe this was the result of the trial. Maybe this was what being reborn meant.
Really?
The more he looked around, the less real it felt. It had to be a dream! Or maybe some complex hallucination his dying mind had cooked up in that bank office back in Agshaka. None of this could be real!
He'd wake up, or stay dead, with a shotgun in his lap and the smell of rot in his nostrils. Perhaps his body was being devoured right now.
But…It wasn't a dream.
He knew it with a certainty that penetrated through his bone and his marrow. The throbbing in his nose was real. The ache in his ribs was real. The steel at his neck was so real. The truth was stranger, stronger, and much too terrifying.
This place wasn't a dream.
It simply wasn't Earth.
Good god, this is insane.
He took a long step over a protruding spike.
Eager to distract himself from these troubling thoughts, he studied the people around him, these so-called 'earthlings.' The term seemed fitting now, especially since there were humanoid creatures that definitely weren't from Earth roaming the forest.
The earthlings moved efficiently. Relto, the bearded man, led the way like a pacemaker setting the rhythm during a track and field race. Leo and the others formed the flanks. They kept their heads on a swivel, constantly looking around as if anything could leap out at them.
Ashen stayed behind him. Despite her quiet movements, Hill occasionally heard her quick breathing.
He understood their tension. If hostile people with magical abilities were out there, anyone would be on edge.
Speaking of magical abilities. How do I get one? It's got to be possible, right?
After what felt like hours of marching, Relto raised his fist. The squad stopped instantly. Hill froze a half-second late, bumping into the man ahead of him. Ashen pricked his neck.
"Stay still," she whispered.
Ahead rose a tall slope that was covered in dying trees and fallen logs. The ground was churned into a mixture of mud, stone, and bits of splintered wood. The forest canopy stretched over the crest. Light poured from above, but he couldn't see the sky yet. The canopy still blocked the view.
They stood like statues for a full minute. Then Relto cleared his throat.
"I, Relto Balchiari, declare my presence!" His deep voice echoed through the understory.
Seconds passed. A shrill yell came from over the crest.
"What is a veterinarian!?"
Relto smirked. "A doctor that treats pets!"
Silence, then hearty laughter boomed from above.
"It's Relto's party! Open the gate!"
The tension evaporated. The squad relaxed. Leo let out a long breath, wiping sweat from his brow. Ashen finally removed the knife from Hill's neck, though she stayed close.
They trudged up the muddy slope. At the top, Hill saw the voice's source: a young man with an ornate battle axe over his shoulder, grinning from the parapets of the gate ahead of them. The gate belonged to a fortress that stood stark against the surrounding wilderness. A wall consisting of logs, slabs of wood, and clay formed a wide circle. Behind it, Hill glimpsed slanted roofs of various structures.
Is this the 'Krugenhold'? It looks like an old fortress.
The ground near the camp was a wasteland of stumps and wood debris. With the dense canopy gone, Hill looked up.
His heart dropped.
There was no sky. No sun, moon, clouds, or stars. Far above, hanging like the teeth of some colossal titan, thousands of massive stalactites covered the cavern ceiling. They stretched into the foggy distance like an inverted mountain range. Thick vines coiled around these stone pillars like serpents. Despite the distance, he could see them clearly.
Because they were glowing.
Not the vines themselves, but the fruit hanging from them. The yellowish light from these fruits illuminated the entire cavern like miniature suns.
The sight defied expectation and imagination. It was utterly horrifying. But it was undeniable proof. This wasn't some place on Earth. This was another world entirely, and he was stuck underground, deep beneath the surface.
He remembered Relto's words. Underground forest…he was being literal!
Ashen shoved him forward. "Move."
They walked toward the main gate, a massive construction of timber reinforced with coiled vines. It groaned open via pulleys manned from inside. The squad passed through to immediate shouts of praise.
The gate slammed shut behind them.
Inside, a crowd had gathered, clapping and whistling and hollering.
"Yeah! Relto's group's back!"
"Did you guys fight any igashians? Did you kick their asses?"
"Ash! Hurian wants to speak to you!"
"Wipe that frown off your face, Leo. You look ugly as hell."
"You guys missed the assembly by the way. Just so you know!"
The voices, the topics, the chaos. It overwhelmed Hill. The air itself was different, assaulting his senses. Thick with woodsmoke, cooking meat, sweat and body odor, damp forest smell. And something else, something acrid he couldn't identify. Whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant.
Ashen pushed him forward again, then leaned against his back, wrapping her arm around his head to cover his eyes. He almost resisted but caught himself. While the rest of the group dispersed into the crowd, Ashen guided him toward a small wooden hut near the camp's center, set apart from other buildings.
"In here." She shoved him through the open door. "The commander will speak to you shortly."
The door closed. He heard the heavy scrape of an external bolt sliding into place.
The hut had no windows. Just him and a wooden stool that looked ready to collapse. Literally. If he'd tried sitting on it, the thing would've shattered.
After Ashen's departure, Hill found himself sitting on the dusty wooden floor with a blank expression on his face. His mind wandered, but he knew that he shouldn't let it wander too far. Thoughts of darkness occupied his mental space, and at the moment, he didn't want to give them the light of day.
He tried to distract himself from thinking, but there wasn't much to do within the empty space. Fiddling with the stool, he quickly discovered that it was already broken. Someone had simply placed the broken upper portions of the stool on top of the broken legs, pressing the severed fibers together. If he had actually sat on it, chances are that he would have several splinters stuck in his ass.
Growing bored of that, he decided to tend to his wounds. The bleeding in his nose seemed to have calmed down, and he took the opportunity to clean the wet blood from his face, but most of it had dried, giving him a bloody goatee sort of look.
I probably look disgusting right now. He chuckled.
Hours passed. The ambient light filtering through gaps in the wood never changed, but camp sounds shifted as work wound down. Every three hours or so, by his count, a wooden drum would sound. Each time, the camp erupted with activity, people moving from place to place. The surge lasted maybe twenty minutes before settling back to idle chatter. Hammers clanging and work crews shouting remained constant throughout.
Finally, as sleep started claiming him, the bolt scraped back. The door opened.
Ashen stood there with two men.
One was tall, with arms that seemed as long as his legs. Bright blond hair, ice-blue eyes. A nose piercing stood out from his otherwise handsome face. His expression twisted into an arrogant smile. He wore a tight black button-down that strained against his build, and a silver sheath hung at his hip, holding a long sword.
The other was his complete opposite. Old, back bent in a severe hunch that forced him to lean on a staff of polished obsidian-like material. His hair was wispy grey, thinning badly. Four heavy rings adorned each finger on his right hand besides his thumb: gold, silver, iron, jade. He looked frail, feeble, and stiff. Any word you'd use to describe someone on their last legs, like that stool. But when he looked at Hill, his eyes, magnified by thick-rimmed glasses, held a level of strength that he couldn't quantify.
Ashen stepped aside, letting the two men enter. The old man shuffled forward ahead of the blonde, his staff tapping rhythmically on the wooden floor. He stopped a few feet from Hill and studied him calmly.
Then his eyes began to glow, filling the hut with light. The rings on his fingers glowed too, reflecting off the staff in a lightshow of red and blue.
"So," he said, voice low and heavy. "You're the new one."