The next morning, they went through the familiar motions of breaking camp. Justin packed his gear in silence, his hands moving on autopilot while his mind remained elsewhere. The cold air stung his face, and his breath formed faint clouds in front of him. He barely noticed. He’d always hated the cold.
They set off, heading north into the Everwood. Though Shadowflight reported no signs of the Baron, Justin didn’t let himself believe they were free. The Baron was cunning, with resources they couldn’t comprehend. Even if they had shaken him for now, it wouldn’t last.
By late evening, they had left the mountains behind and entered the Everwood proper. The surrounding forest was unlike anything Justin had ever seen before—tall, ancient trees with icy-blue bark that shimmered faintly in the fading light. It reminded of the forest from the Lord of the Rings movies, minus the elves. The canopy above was dense, with only small slivers of sky visible through the gaps. The air was cool and thick with the quiet hum of the forest, as though the woods themselves were alive, watching their every move.
“So, what comes after this Everwood place?” Justin asked.
Eldrin glanced over his shoulder. “The Frostplain. After that, it’s about another hundred miles before you hit the cliffs of the Ghostly Sea and Kaldrath.”
“Is that what you’ve settled on, Ranger?” Bohemond asked, his usual rough tone coming through.
“I have decided nothing,” Eldrin replied. His voice was tired, as if even he had grown weary of Bohemond’s constant challenges.
Justin kept his silence, still preoccupied with the conversation he’d had with Lila the night before. The weight of Valdrik’s revelations still hung over him like a storm cloud, dampening any sense of hope he might have had.
The warm afterglow from gaining his new Focus seemed little more than a distant memory now. With each step, he was straying further from his original goal of finding a large city to get lost in. But the wilderness stretched on before them, interminable as ever.
Lila’s offer lingered in his mind—leave this mess behind, sell the Alchemist Core, and find a place far from the Baron’s reach. They could disappear, live quietly with enough gold to survive for a long time. The idea was tempting, but it seemed like a pipe dream. As unreachable as waking up back in Oklahoma.
Justin sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. They made camp again for the evening, and though his body moved, his mind was far away. Everyone seemed affected by the same grim mood. Now that they were out of immediate danger, the unspoken anxieties they had been avoiding rose to the surface.
The boar meat they’d had since the Northwood was running low, but Eldrin assured them it would last until they reached Kaldrath. Justin’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. In a perfect world, he’d be sitting at a drive-thru right now, clutching a twenty-piece nugget box and a large basket of fries, the smell of greasy goodness wafting up like some sort of divine blessing.
But no, here he was, trudging through the Everwood. It wouldn’t have been so bad except there was Bohemond—the living embodiment of a soggy napkin.
“So, you've decided on Kaldrath then,” the Knight said.
Justin rolled his eyes. Ever the buzzkill, he thought. Does this guy have any chill?
As Bohemond droned on the wisdom of Eldrin’s plan, Justin’s mind drifted. What if he could conjure up a wild scenario to get rid of Bohemond? What if he told him that Arion, in all his divine wisdom, had sent Justin a message? A sacred quest—no, a holy mission—awaited the Knight deep in the Everwood. The guy was from some place called Ashcroft. Maybe there was a legendary tree—a Sacred Ash Tree of Arion—hidden far beyond their current path. And it was, naturally, guarded by fierce, ancient squirrels.
Justin chuckled at the thought of the grim Knight battling a horde of rabid squirrels, shouting something like, “For Arion’s Glory!” He could almost see the guy buying it. He’d believed Justin about Arion’s mission for him in Drakendir, so who was to say the guy wouldn't go for it?
“Uh oh,” Lila said, noticing his laughter. “Justin’s going crazy.”
“Oh, it's nothing,” Justin replied. “Just a dearth of chicken nuggets.”
“Chicken nuggets? What’s that?”
Bohemond was listening, and Justin realized saying that had been a slip. He doubted the Knight would report Justin’s affinity for chicken nuggets to the Templars, who would then figure out was from Earth, but it was better to be careful. He could tell Lila about the glories of fast food some other time.
“Anyhow, what did I miss?” Justin asked.
Eldrin looked at him curiously as he concluded the conversation. “I was just saying, Kaldrath is not too far out of the way. Towns, no matter their size, always offer options. It’s worth exploring while we have the lead. And a place like Kaldrath will have gear that will make traveling in the cold far easier.”
Justin couldn’t argue with that. They needed something—anything—other than wandering aimlessly.
“But before we reach Kaldrath, we must get through the rest of the Everwood,” Eldrin continued. “It seems quiet now, but this forest has a reputation for danger. Monsters that roam the ruins of Kurath can be found here, along with others that haven’t been documented.”
“Like rabid squirrels," Justin muttered.
“What’s that, Justin?” Eldrin asked.
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
Eldrin shook his head, somewhat annoyed at the interruption. “Kargan’s warding has grown stronger since we set out, but in this place, it’s no guarantee. We must remain vigilant.”
The peacefulness of the woods made it hard to believe there was any real danger. Since leaving Drakendir, they hadn’t encountered anything more threatening than a bull moose. Granted, those could be quite dangerous, but nothing compared to what they’d dealt with so far.
But the possibility of stumbling across a high-level Vault was always in the back of his mind. Vaults could fester in these isolated places, growing more dangerous with time.
Justin noticed Eldrin watching him curiously, much like Lila had the previous night. He knew Eldrin could sense that something had changed. The Ranger wasn’t the type to pry, but Justin felt the weight of Eldrin’s quiet observation. He wasn’t ready to share what he had learned from Valdrik—not yet.
That night, Justin didn’t have watch duty. But as he fell asleep, a strange dream troubled what should have been a full night’s rest. It pulled him out of the fantasy world and back to the past, to a time before any of this madness began.
Justin was back in his small bed at home, surrounded by familiar walls. His old desk, the worn-out gaming chair, and the stack of textbooks he had never really cracked open all sat untouched. Everything was just as he remembered it, yet it felt alien to him.
He glanced down at his body and noticed he was thinner—like he had been during his brief attempt at getting fit in his freshman year of college. It was winter, and through the window, he could see sleet falling steadily, encasing the tree limbs in ice.
It was the winter break of his freshman year. Oklahoma winters weren’t known for heavy snow, but the ice storms could be brutal. That year, a severe storm had hit the night of December 23rd. The roads had turned into icy death traps, and every year, the poorly maintained streets claimed lives.
One of those lives had been his older brother, Connor.
Connor had driven an old Chevy S-10, a light pickup. It was a decent little truck, but terrible for icy roads unless you weighed down the bed. Otherwise, it was liable to lose traction. Connor usually took the time to do it, but that day, he hadn’t. He’d wanted to make it in time for lunch, probably.
In his dream, Justin’s heart raced as the familiar panic clawed at his throat. He reached for his phone to warn Connor not to come, but of course, the battery was dead.
The night before the accident, Connor had texted him. He’d asked Justin if he had remembered to pick up the peppermint schnapps, because the liquor store wouldn’t be open on Christmas Day. It was for a holiday drink their mom liked to make, something she called “Christmas Cheer”—a blend of schnapps, hot chocolate, and a splash of cream, topped with crushed candy cane. It was a Christmas tradition, and Mom would be disappointed if they didn’t have it. This had been Justin’s task, but of course, video games had taken priority. He’d seen Connor’s message, but he’d been in the middle of a raid.
He reasoned Connor would understand; while his older brother played little Aether Quest these days, dozens of late-night gaming sessions were a treasured memory for the brothers. They’d spent countless hours together, adventuring across worlds, slaying digital monsters, and sharing victories. But those nights were fewer and farther between now that Connor had started his career and had gotten engaged. Justin planned to pick it up the next morning.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
By the time Justin had logged off, it was well past midnight on the 23rd, and the storm had grown bad. At that time of night, the liquor stores were closed, anyway. Justin figured he’d tell Connor in the morning, assuming they could improvise something for Mom the next day.
But of course, things had played out differently.
Justin ran downstairs, his hands shaking. He scrambled for the phone charger he’d carelessly tossed onto the couch the night before. His fingers fumbled with the cord, and by the time he got his phone charged and powered on, there was another missed text from Connor.
A simple message: Running late, just going to assume you forgot the schnapps. Picking it up on my way.
Justin’s gut twisted with a sense of dread. It was happening all over again.
He tried calling, but Connor didn’t answer. The icy knot in Justin’s stomach grew heavier. He looked at the time—11:20 a.m.. Connor’s apartment was only a fifteen-minute drive from their mother’s house, but the ice made every minute treacherous.
The crash had happened less than two miles from Connor’s apartment, on a stretch of road Justin had driven many times. The six-lane road was notorious for its dangers, even without the foul weather. It was illegal to make left turns onto it, but that didn’t stop people from doing it.
One such person, maybe running late like Connor, had made that illegal turn, pulling directly in front of his brother’s truck. Connor, trying to avoid the collision, twisted the wheel sharply. The truck spun out, losing control on the icy road, and skidded into oncoming traffic. A van, going way too fast for the conditions, slammed into Connor’s side.
Justin’s stomach churned as the scene replayed in his mind. He’d imagined it countless times before. If only he’d answered Connor’s text. If only he’d gotten the schnapps before the storm had worsened, Connor wouldn’t have felt the need to go out of his way. He would have taken a different route altogether.
He would still be alive.
Justin told no one about that text. The shame was too much. He could barely admit it to himself, let alone his family.
Connor’s fiancée, Angie, confronted him a few days before the funeral. She’d gotten access to Connor’s messages and had found their exchange on his laptop. Her anger was obvious—righteous, even. She wasn’t alone. His mother overheard, as did a few others. Angie’s accusation was like a hammer, smashing what little remained of Justin’s self-worth. His mother had already been disappointed in him, but now she outright despised him. She’d lost her successful son and was stuck with the one she believed responsible for his death.
From that moment on, Justin had withdrawn completely. His brother was gone, and the guilt crushed him, seeping into every part of his life. He dropped out of college, stopped caring about anything. He became a recluse, hiding in his mom’s basement, drowning in his own self-loathing and games.
For years, he lived in that limbo, coexisting with his mother in a tense and fragile truce. She would try, sometimes, to draw him out, but she was fighting her own battles with grief. He contributed to minor tasks around the house, sometimes did the shopping, and occasionally took online surveys to make some spending money. But mostly, he existed in a haze of video games and isolation. Time blurred for him—days became weeks, weeks became months, and before he knew it, years had slipped by. All the while, his mother grieved her favorite son, the one who could have been saved.
That was his life until the tornado hit.
Justin woke up with a gasp, his heart racing, the guilt from the dream still weighing heavily on his chest. His surroundings slowly came into focus—the towering trees of the Everwood, the eerie quiet of the early morning. The cold air nipped at his skin, and the ice that clung to the branches reminded him too much of that fateful day.
No matter how far he had come—no matter how much this new world seemed like a fresh start—he couldn’t outrun his past. Connor was still dead, and it was still his fault. That gnawing guilt would follow him no matter what world he found himself in.
Maybe, in some cruel way, it was justice that he was trapped in a place that resembled a dangerous video game. His life had become a reflection of the thing that had driven him into isolation.
But he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t what Connor would have wanted for him. Connor would have wanted him to live, to keep going, to do something worthwhile with his life.
Justin wondered, for a moment, what Connor would have thought of this strange world. There was a time when they had played together—when adventuring was something they did side by side. If Connor had been here, maybe the challenges ahead wouldn’t feel so insurmountable. Maybe this would all feel like a grand adventure instead of a punishment.
But Connor wasn’t here. He was gone, and Justin was left to face this world alone.
Once again, the others awoke and went through the motions of packing up camp. As they got started, Justin’s thoughts churned in a whirlwind. Why would this dream—this recurring nightmare from his old life—be visiting him now?
He couldn’t answer that. For so long, he had wanted to find a way back to Earth, but after that dream, it was a stark reminder of what awaited him there. Maybe the Baron was obsessed with escape, but for all its dangers, life here had its own kind of peace. At least it distracted him from the weight of his past, from the demons that still clawed at him in the dark.
“You’ve been quiet,” Kargan said, sidling up to him a few hours after they set out. “Unusually so.”
Justin shrugged, forcing a smile. “A Socialite isn’t much good in the wilds.”
“Maybe so,” Kargan replied in his blunt but well-meaning way. “While that might be true for most Socialites, it’s not for you. You’ve proven you can hold your own in a fight.”
“That’s just because of the boons I took,” Justin said, brushing off the compliment. “It’s nothing intrinsic to me.”
Kargan gave him a sidelong look. “It doesn’t matter if the strength comes from a boon or from within. It’s how you choose to use it that defines you. And you? You’ve chosen well every time.”
If only you knew, Justin wanted to say, but he kept the thought to himself. “You’re right, Kargan.” They had fallen slightly behind the others, so Justin felt it was safe to ask a more personal question. “Any plans for what’s next? Assuming we make it somewhere safe?”
“Not really,” Kargan admitted. “With no official Mage Guild willing to take me, seems my life is destined to be that of a hedge mage. Mercenary Guilds can always find a use for me, even if others won’t.”
“Hmm. I suppose merc work is something all of us can do. Dangerous, though.”
“Well, nothing’s set in stone. It’d be nice to have a home of my own one day. I’d like to learn more about my powers, too, but finding a teacher is the hard part.” Kargan’s gaze grew distant for a moment before he continued. “There are a lot of Orcs scattered across the world, and not all of them follow Gor’Thaak’s strict path. Calidon’s the place to go if you’re an Orc looking to move up in the world.”
“Calidon. That’s across the ocean, right?” Justin asked, recalling the geography lessons he’d pieced together from conversations.
Kargan nodded. “Yes. It’s where we Orcs originally come from, though my ancestors have lived in Serenthel for generations. It might be where I head next...but we’ll see.”
“At least you’ve got the concept of a plan. Me? I’m not sure what it is I want.”
“You’re not going to Mont Elea?” Kargan asked, the question casual but carrying weight.
No one ahead of them turned at the question, but Justin was sure Eldrin had heard it. The Ranger’s ears were sharp. He’d have to tread carefully with his answer. “The Baron needs to be stopped. No doubt about that.” He paused, considering his words. “But assuming we actually make it that far, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for all of us to stick together afterward. Maybe even try something...different. Start a business or something.”
Kargan frowned, his tusks jutting slightly as he mulled it over. “A business? What kind of business?”
Justin grinned, the idea forming as he spoke. “I don’t know. Coffee shop, restaurant, brewery—the possibilities are endless. I could manage, you could cook. Lila could be the entertainment. Eldrin could hand out flyers to get customers.”
Kargan snorted, amused. “You’ve got an imagination, I’ll give you that. Not a half-bad idea. But maybe we should think about something more up our alley. An adventurer’s group, for instance. Some people make a living clearing out Vaults and the like. Dangerous, sure, but if you put together a strong, well-rounded party, it can be pretty profitable. The military can’t get to every Vault out there.”
Justin had figured that was how Vaults were kept in check, but hearing it put into perspective made him realize just how widespread the problem was. “Something to think about, I guess.”
The conversation trailed off as the day wore on, and the group continued their journey through the Everwood. Days passed in a blur of routine—setting up and breaking down camp, navigating the dense forest, and handling any threats that came their way with swift efficiency.
One evening, a small pack of dire wolves charged them from the trees, their glowing eyes cutting through the fading light. Eldrin was the first to respond, his arrows finding their marks with deadly precision, while Kargan kept healing up and Bohemond tanked the wolves that got too close. After a couple of minutes of close fighting, the wolves backed up and didn’t bother them again.
The next day, they happened upon a forest troll that lumbered out from the trees, its moss-covered skin blending into the environment. The battle ended almost as soon as it began; between the five of them, they made quick work of it. The speed and efficiency with which they dispatched these monsters reminded Justin of just how far they had come.
By the fifth day, the towering trees of the enchanted forest thinned out, their bluish-hued trunks casting long shadows in the fading light. They reached the edge of the Everwood just as the first flakes of snow fell. While it was technically still fall, up here north of the Seraphims, winter had arrived. Before them lay the Frostplain—a vast, desolate expanse of tundra stretching toward the horizon. A well-worn track headed over the horizon.
“The Forstplain Road,” Eldrin said. “That’ll take us to Kaldrath.”
“Not too late to turn back for Thalgar’s Tunnel,” Bohemond grumbled.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Eldrin replied calmly. “The risk of running into the Baron is too great.”
Bohemond’s eyes narrowed. “But you would lead us into a dead end?”
Eldrin paused, weighing his next words. “For my part, I’m heading north. That’s what I judge to be the best course of action.” He turned slightly, meeting Bohemond’s gaze head-on. “If you disagree, you’re free to make your own path, Bohemond.”
Bohemond’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked like he might argue further. But after a tense silence, he let out a frustrated breath. “We’ll see. The weather north of the Seraphims can be treacherous at this time of year. But I'll defer to your judgment.”
As they ventured north, it was as if Bohemond had spoken a prophecy. The weather took a sudden turn for the worse. What had started as light snowfall quickly escalated into a blizzard. The wind howled across the flatlands, stinging their faces with icy pellets, and visibility dropped to nearly nothing. They were forced to seek shelter, hunkering down in a small cave nestled between two frozen hills.
Inside the cave, the group gathered around a hastily built fire, scrounged from some stunted trees that had been growing in between the hills. The warmth, held in somewhat by Kargan’s ward, was welcome, but it did little to stave off the growing tension. The storm outside raged on, showing no signs of letting up. Hours passed in quiet as night fell and snow continued to fall. Justin fell into an uneasy sleep.
The next day, the snowfall had lessened somewhat. Despite the fire and ward, Justin’s hands felt frozen solid. He could feel the heat of his clothing enchantment working, but it did little for his extremities.
Eldrin, who was keeping watch near the cave entrance, stiffened. His sharp eyes narrowed as he peered out into the blinding snow.
“Someone’s out there,” he muttered.
Justin felt a surge of adrenaline. “Who?”
Eldrin shook his head. “I don’t know. But they’re getting closer.”
Justin reached for his cane as a figure materialized from the snow. The rest of them gathered their weapons to make their stand.