The old geezer froze as he sat, he wouldn’t take such disrespect from a child playing at being a man. Faintly, he heard someone asking him to stand, so they could get to their place, but he didn’t move– just stared across rows of seats at the arrogant whelp. They both knew what this was.

After a few too many tense moments, his old eyes collapsed in defeat, they weren’t what they used to be. The young man, having won, smiled inappropriately wide. Oliver, barely twenty, had decided to test his skills against unsuspecting strangers.

This wasn’t unusual, or rather, out of character. He regularly challenged people for petty reasons, just so that - if and when possible - he could win. He needed to win at least a few times a day, or… well, it was important.

Eyes watering, he opened his notes app and tallied his fourth victory for the day. (Staring contest: IIII)

The passenger behind him cleared their throat, bringing Oliver back to reality. He was holding up the plane. He got to his seat and chucked his suitcase in the overhead storage, keeping his backpack on him. It was time to fly back home, Melbourne to Perth.

Before he sat, he noticed the side-eye he was getting from other passengers. He thought maybe he should lock in his next victory. But… no matter how long he reciprocated, three times longer than the old man, they didn’t blink. He struggled, but he failed, and his mood took a nosedive. He looked back at the passenger, expecting a contemptuous smile– they were still staring. “Hey- I get it, alright. Stop.”

They didn’t even twitch, it was like they weren’t breathing–wait. Suddenly, Oliver noticed the pervasive silence. Not even a hiss of air conditioning or rumble of the engines. Not a shuffle, nor a breath, the whole length of the cabin.

The temperature seemed to drop. Whether it was the environment, or just an instinctual fear, goosebumps covered Oliver's arms. He stumbled into the woman behind him, but the woman was solid as a stone statue, and just as cold. “Huh?” and as if heeded, starting from the far end of the plane, a wave of darkness swallowed everything; seats, passengers, even sunlight from the windows.

As he was swallowed by the void, Oliver spun around, or he tried. His stomach dropped, he couldn’t push his feet against the ground, there wasn’t one anymore, a breeze picked up from below him.

“What thaaaaAAAAAAAHHH”

He fell into the darkness.

—

A cacophony of shuffling sounds, like that of paperwork in a busy office, brought Oliver’s consciousness up from the depths. Eyes closed, his first thoughts drew around the dull pain in the back of his skull.

“Uuugghh..wh…”

Shifting his weight on the uneven surface, Oliver felt a sudden prick on his arm. “AH!” Startled, he flailed, and pricked himself again in confused urgency, then he tumbled to a hard surface, face first.

Confused, tasting dirt, and definitely awake, his hands felt around what seemed to be slightly damp, compacted earth. A warm breeze fluttered the back of his shirt and rustled what now he assumed to be leaves.

He spoke, voice muffled by the dirt below him, as his brain started turning. “What the… Who… What?” Did someone put something funny in the air conditioning? And dump me… somewhere?

After a moment of hesitation, Oliver pushed himself shakily from the unfamiliar ground, and felt the dirt cling to his pastel green t-shirt and baggy cream canvas pants. He cracked open his hazel green eyes, which had little trouble adjusting to the dark environment. He found short stubby trees, densely grown, and only about a foot taller than he was - Oliver being six feet tall.

Somehow, short though they were, they were thick enough that he could barely wrap his arms around them if he tried. They sported a thin canopy he needed to duck under to stand. Peaking through the leaves, mountains were hazy in the distance, a moon nestled between peaks. He looked up further, at the sky, and ran a hand through his wavy orange hair, removing some plant debris.

“Woah…” Above, a beautiful expanse of stars cut the sky, forming numerous colourful swirls, more stars than he could ever remember seeing in or near a city… And a bit different.

At the least, he realised that meant there was probably no city nearby. Oliver remembered his phone, and pulled it out. “None. No reception.” He sighed.

Even in the low light of the stars, the plant life looked desaturated and listless as it was brushed by the wind. So weird, if this is natural it’s not in Australia. Not that Oliver knew much about forestry anyway.

“Uuuuh.”

You can navigate with the stars right? Actually, if I had a cardinal direction, would it even help all that much? I don’t know constellations.

Oliver mumbled to himself. “Didn’t think The Milky Way had that big green part… Oh, where’s the southern cross?”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Has someone transported me halfway around the globe!? Why?

He didn’t feel particularly hungry or like he’d been unconscious for particularly long. An impressive operation if so.

Putting that revelation aside, Oliver considered his surroundings. He bent down and picked a little berry off of the thorny bush he’d tumbled from. It was a dull pink, which wasn’t a colour of berry he’d seen in a grocery store. Probably too dangerous to try.

At least he had his backpack. Holding his laptop, a small water bottle, and two bags of chips. If he was stranded, he would need more supplies than that, but hopefully it would buy him time to figure that out.

Though strange and unsettling, Oliver thought it was a bit exciting to be in this kind of situation. He was always a fan of survival videos. He’d need to cut down a bunch of trees if he had hopes of being found from above, which was unrealistic. Even if he did manage it, would anyone know where to search? His captors had gone to all the effort of putting him here.

The sneakers he was wearing made easy footprints in the impressionable dirt, and there were no signs of anyone else having left any in the vicinity, so whoever put him here probably airdropped him. It would’ve been a helicopter or something. So waiting for help wasn’t really something to count on.

Oliver found the biggest star in the sky, as to not walk in circles, and started picking his way through the low hanging branches, ducking as needed.

—

What felt like half an hour later, light streamed over the horizon. Oliver had decided to shut down his phone for battery conservation, so he was just guessing the time. With the sun, the strange environment was illuminated better. The thin and low forest cover provided altogether too much access to the blinding sunlight. The galaxy was still slightly visible in the day, and something about the leaves…

“This place really is strange...”

After closing and opening his eyes a few times, he plucked a small branch from a tree, and turned the wide leaves over with his other hand. “Yeah. No, yeah that’s blue alright.” All of the leaves were quite desaturated, which was unusual by itself, but a few of them tended toward blue. Confirming his eyes were functioning, Oliver reconsidered whether he was conscious at all.

Notably, as Oliver made his way ever forward, the terrain did not noticeably incline or decline. It was a steady slog, tree roots jutting out from the forest floor, the only animals he’d glimpsed being rabbits, at least, he assumed they were rabbits. They darted out of sight faster than he could properly see them. A few more berry bushes here and there, some thick climbing vines spanning multiple trees, and the occasional cluster of suspicious mushrooms.

Oliver was not hungry enough to try hunting yet, but he was dreading it. Maybe he should try while he had food security? He could be out here for weeks. Although, that’s a bit grim considering it had been less than an hour.

Interrupting his worst case scenario, Oliver’s ears detected faint laughter. Uncontrolled, slightly shrill laughter at that, somewhere deeper in the forest. It sounded a bit sinister… Still, people are people, this meant he could stop worrying about surviving here at least.

Straining his voice, he started shouting. “Hey... HEEEYY!!” It was surprising how much relief he felt, he thought he had been fine.

The distant sound went quiet. Oliver kept shouting out, beginning to work his way toward what he thought he heard, “ANYONE THERE?!”

There wasn’t any response as he navigated in their direction. What if they're dangerous?.. Well whatever, I already called out. He kept walking for about five minutes. Eventually, Oliver came across a crooked glade which encircled the remains of a campfire, embers glowing. There were trashy rugs around it, which Oliver assumed was bedding, along with some simple bags of supplies and a pot. It seemed to be the dwelling of four homeless people.

Somehow, the glade was even less colourful than the rest of the forest, which provoked a chill in Oliver. Even the sunlight lost some of its lustre, it made for an eerie vibe. Twigs snapped and conspiratorial whispering came from trees to the left and right. People were hiding nearby, unsuccessfully.

“Hey, I can hear you all, I’m friendly… Speak English?” Realising that might be an issue, Oliver scratched his head. He was monolingual, despite the best efforts of his French teacher.

From behind the fat mini-trees, four darkly robed, pale figures slinked into view. One notably older than the rest. In their hands, they gripped various wooden sticks of the magical persuasion. It was convincing wizard cosplay. Must be Europe or America.

The oldest one, the one with the biggest stick, a staff, looked the most put together. He was a visibly dirty, scraggle-chinned fellow. Silver embroidery on stained grey vestments reaching down to just above the ground, platinum blonde hair, dulled with grease and dirt. The group looked like they needed some health intervention. A bit unsettling, hopefully it was makeup. Oliver thought it best to cut straight to business.

“Hello, I am sorry to interrupt whatever this lovely activity is,” gesturing vaguely at their getups, “I’ll get out of your hair, but– I would appreciate it if you pointed me to… town?” He made a leaving gesture with his thumb.

The robed figures looked at him. To the left, one in a mossy green hood smiled, “Fool!” the teenage boy sniggered; “We are the circle of desecration and shadow! Kneel before us!” His voice was slightly shrill, picturesque of a dark sorcerer…’s apprentice.

To the right, the most plain looking one, whose simple black robe floated behind as he turned, loudly whispered at the green hooded boy, “I didn’t agree to that! Nobody will take that seriously!”

Oliver looked bemusedly at the group, but he was annoyed, not really in the state of mind to roleplay with them at the moment.

“You’re all having good fun, but I really would like to find out where I am. I’m not really in the mood to play games.”

They looked genuinely indignant, that he might dare belittle their hobby as a ‘game’. This was especially true for the smaller one, a small teenage girl beside the plain one, whose robe was more a navy blue hooded poncho. She snarled at Oliver audibly.

“Enough.” The leader - master of shadow, ha! - planted his staff in front of him, raspy voice weighed heavily with deep emotion, “It seems you misunderstand your place!” The surroundings grew marginally darker as sickly green runic workings resembling computer circuitry glowed their way down along the staff, and into the ground. The light pooled into an uneven circle about one and a half metres in diameter.

The others looked on excitedly, the poncho girl squealed in delight.

Taking a step back, Oliver widened his eyes, “Woah, that’s sick, how are you doing that?” Then he nearly burst out laughing as the other three spread out around Oliver, boxing him in, each sporting huge smirks.

Internally cracking up at the pomposity, Oliver nearly missed something truly extraordinary. What he thought was a neat trick of the light - began consolidating into a singular point in front of the staff.

A skeletal finger broke the ground.