Chapter Two

A New World

Ezra’s head throbbed as he stood in the middle of the strange forest, the cool breeze ruffling his armor. The ground beneath his feet was damp with morning dew, and the faint scent of pine and moss lingered in the air. He could feel the weight of the sword at his side, the chill of the metal against his leg. It was strange—unnervingly real. This wasn’t a dream. Everything about it, from the distant birdsong to the warmth of the rising sun on his face, felt solid, tangible.

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. They weren’t in the basement anymore, that much was obvious. The rolling hills, thick forests, and distant mountains were unfamiliar. And then there was the armor. His fingers traced the intricate crest of the knight engraved on his chest plate, the one he had designed for his character in the game. It was here, fully realized, as if plucked straight from his imagination and woven into reality.

Mona, standing a few feet away, was inspecting her own outfit. The tight, dark leather armor clung to her body like a second skin, the twin daggers at her waist gleaming in the early light. Her pale blonde hair, usually tied up, now flowed freely down her back. She spun one of the daggers absentmindedly between her fingers, her sharp green eyes scanning the forest around them.

"This can’t be happening," she muttered, but even as she said it, the conviction was gone from her voice. She knew as well as Ezra did—this was happening. Somehow, they had become their characters.

"Uh, guys..." Leika’s voice cut through the silence, tinged with equal parts amusement and confusion. "We’ve got a situation here."

Ezra and Mona turned to look at her, and it only took a second for them to realize what she was talking about. Leika stood a few paces away, staring at herself in disbelief. She was dressed in tight black leather, her usual messy blue hair cascading down her shoulders, but that wasn’t what caught their attention.

It was the wings. Large, leathery wings sprouted from her back, like something out of a nightmare. Black as night, they extended several feet behind her, flapping slightly as if testing the air. She also had two curled horns protruding from her forehead, and, as if that wasn’t enough, a long, sinuous tail swished behind her, flicking back and forth like a cat’s.

"Well," Leika said, grinning as she inspected her tail, "I guess I really am a demon now. Who knew?"

Mona groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Great. Just what we needed—Leika with more ways to cause trouble."

Leika waggled her tail playfully, flashing a mischievous grin. "Come on, Mona. You know you love it."

"Yeah, I love the idea of cutting it off," Mona muttered, though the hint of a smirk tugged at her lips.

Ezra, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling out of control, cleared his throat. "We need to figure out where we are. First things first—are we all here?"

A quick headcount showed that everyone had made it to this strange new world. Amelia stood quietly near a tree, her mage robes swaying slightly in the breeze, her long brown hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Her staff—tall, made of polished wood and topped with a faintly glowing crystal—looked almost too big for her, but there was a quiet strength in her posture.

Manuel, on the other hand, was lounging against a nearby rock, looking more bored than surprised. His black hair fell over his gray eyes as he absentmindedly fiddled with the hilt of his dagger. He seemed unfazed by the transformation, though Ezra suspected that was just Manuel’s usual way of coping—act indifferent, even if everything was falling apart.

Lenore, the group's bard, had already found a fallen tree to sit on, tuning the strings of the lute that now hung across his back. His dark skin contrasted sharply with his vibrant green hair, which seemed even more eye-catching in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. He strummed a few notes, a serene smile playing on his lips, as if he were content to simply let the moment unfold.

And then there was Nola.

Nola, the princess.

She stood apart from the group, her face a mask of disbelief and irritation. She was dressed in an elegant gown of rich velvet, deep blue and embroidered with golden thread, a far cry from her usual casual outfits. Her auburn hair was perfectly styled, cascading down her back in soft waves, but the most striking thing was the look of sheer panic in her eyes as she frantically patted down her dress.

"Where is it?" she muttered, her voice rising with each word. "Where’s my phone?"

Ezra winced. Of course. Nola’s first thought wouldn’t be about the fact they were in a completely new world or that she was dressed like a princess—no, it would be about her phone.

"Nola," he began cautiously, "I don’t think—"

"This can’t be happening!" Nola interrupted, her voice sharp with frustration. She reached into her pockets—well, the folds of her dress—and found nothing. No phone. No connection to the world she knew. Instead, her hand closed around something unfamiliar. Puzzled, she pulled it out, and her eyes widened.

In her hand were five small bags of gold coins. The weight of them was undeniable, the clinking sound they made as they shifted in her palm like music from a forgotten time.

"Oh, great," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because who needs a phone when you have gold?"

Ezra chuckled softly. "Well, at least your character’s rich."

Nola shot him a withering glare. "Obviously. I am a princess, after all."

Leika snickered. "You don’t sound too disappointed about that part."

Nola flipped her hair over her shoulder, her regal attitude firmly in place. "Why would I be disappointed? I was born to be royalty."

Mona groaned audibly. "Here we go."

Ignoring her, Nola gathered the bags of gold and tied them neatly to her waist. “So, are we just going to stand around here all day? Or are we going to find some civilization?” She paused, glancing around at the others. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d rather not spend the night in a forest.”

Ezra had to admit, she had a point. The forest, while beautiful, was unsettling in its unfamiliarity. If they really were trapped in this world—and it was becoming more and more apparent that they were—they needed to figure out their next move.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"She’s right," Ezra said, scanning the treeline for any signs of a path. "We need to get out of here and find a city. Maybe we can get some answers about what’s happening."

"And food," Manuel added from his spot against the rock. "I’m starving."

Ezra nodded. “Food, too.”

Leika stretched her wings, flexing them experimentally before folding them against her back. “So, which way do we go?”

For a moment, they all stood in silence, staring at the seemingly endless forest around them. There was no obvious path, no trail markers, no sign of civilization. Just trees. Trees in every direction.

Nola huffed impatiently. “If you all would just stop gawking, we could—”

She was cut off by the sound of rustling in the bushes nearby. Everyone froze, their eyes locking onto the source of the noise. The rustling grew louder, more insistent, until suddenly, a small, furry creature burst out of the underbrush and darted past them.

Ezra let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “It’s just an animal,” he said, his voice shaky with relief.

Lenore, still sitting on his log, grinned. “Looks like we’re not alone out here, after all.”

"Great," Mona muttered, eyeing the forest warily. "More things to watch out for."

Ezra glanced down at the sword hanging at his side. It felt strange—both unfamiliar and natural at the same time. He had designed this weapon for his character, after all, but now it was real. Too real. He could feel its weight, the cold steel against his leg. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"Alright," Ezra said, taking charge once more. "Let’s get moving. We’ll head west. The sun is rising behind us, so if we keep walking in that direction, we’re bound to find something eventually."

The group exchanged nervous glances but nodded in agreement. Ezra was the leader—they trusted him. Even Nola, despite her obvious discomfort, fell into line behind him as they started walking.

The forest was thick, the trees towering above them and casting long shadows on the ground. The undergrowth was dense, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead, but they pressed on. The sound of their footsteps, the occasional crack of a twig, was the only noise that broke the silence of the woods.

As they walked, Ezra couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. It wasn’t paranoia—there was something about this forest, something ancient and powerful that he couldn’t quite put into words. The air felt heavy with magic, the kind that prickled the skin and made every breath feel like it was laced with danger.

After what felt like hours of walking, the trees began to thin. The ground sloped downward, and in the distance, through the breaks in the trees, Ezra spotted something that made his heart skip a beat.

“There,” he said, pointing ahead. “Do you see that? Smoke.”

Everyone stopped and squinted in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, a thin plume of smoke rose into the sky, barely visible against the backdrop of the distant hills.

"That means people," Lenore said, his voice filled with excitement. "We’re close to a town."

Ezra nodded. “Let’s go.”

With renewed energy, the group quickened their pace. The dense forest gave way to rolling hills, and soon, they found themselves on a dirt road leading toward a small village nestled at the base of a hill. Smoke rose from chimneys, and the sounds of distant voices carried on the breeze.

Nola, ever the princess, let out a sigh of relief. “Finally. Civilization.”

Ezra smiled, though the tension in his chest didn’t lessen. This world, whatever it was, had a strange pull to it, and he wasn’t sure if reaching a village would give them the answers they needed. Still, it was a start.

As they approached the outskirts of the village, Ezra held up a hand, signaling for the group to stop. “We don’t know how people here are going to react to us. We should try to blend in.”

Nola scoffed. “Blend in? I’m literally dressed like royalty. How am I supposed to ‘blend in’?”

Ezra shot her a look. “You’re going to have to try. For now, just pull up your hood or something. We don’t want to attract attention.”

Nola rolled her eyes but did as he said, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. It was a poor disguise, but it would have to do.

The group moved cautiously into the village. The streets were narrow, lined with small cottages made of stone and wood. Villagers went about their business, some carrying baskets of goods, others chatting in small groups. It was a far cry from the world they knew, but there was a strange comfort in the simplicity of it.

At the far end of the village, nestled between two larger buildings, was a small tavern. A wooden sign hung above the door, the name "The Iron Boar" scrawled in faded letters.

Ezra gestured to the tavern. “Let’s go inside. We can get food and figure out our next move.”

Manuel perked up at the mention of food. “Finally.”

They entered the tavern, the warmth and noise hitting them all at once. The smell of roasted meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, and the sound of laughter and clinking mugs echoed off the walls. It was packed, the wooden tables crowded with patrons. A roaring fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Ezra approached the bar, and the innkeeper—a burly man with a thick beard and a friendly smile—greeted him.

“Rooms and food for the night,” Ezra said, his voice steady.

The innkeeper raised an eyebrow. “That’ll be five gold for the rooms, and an extra silver for the food.”

Ezra instinctively reached into his pocket, fully expecting to find nothing. But to his surprise, his hand closed around a small pouch. He pulled it out and opened it, revealing a handful of gold coins.

He exchanged a glance with the others. They, too, were finding pouches of gold hidden in their clothing. Nola smirked, clearly proud of her royal status, which had evidently come with more money than the others.

Ezra handed the gold to the innkeeper, who nodded in approval. “You’ve got six free rooms upstairs. Take your pick.”

“There are six rooms,” Ezra said, pausing at the top of the stairs. “That means two of us will have to share.”

“I’ll share with whoever,” Leika said, nonchalantly flicking her tail. “I don’t care.”

The others looked away, clearly wanting a room for themselves. Ezra's eyes landed on Mona whose eyes widened when they made contact.

Mona shot a panicked look at Ezra. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed.

But Ezra had already made up his mind. “Leika and Mona, you’re sharing a room.”

Mona’s face turned red. “Ezra, no. You don’t understand. I can’t—”

Ezra held up a hand, cutting her off. “It’s settled, Mona. There are only six rooms. You two are sharing.”

Mona glared daggers at Leika, who was trying—and failing—not to look too amused. “This is going to be fun,” Leika said, her voice dripping with mischief.

Mona groaned, already imagining how awful the night was going to be.

They found a large table at the far end of the tavern and sat down. The noise of the tavern was a comforting hum around them, and as they settled into their seats, Ezra took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he said, leaning forward, his voice low. “We need to talk about what just happened. How did we end up here? And what do we do next?”

The others exchanged uncertain glances, clearly still trying to process everything.

“I don’t know,” Lenore said, strumming his lute absently. “But if we’re stuck here, we might as well make the best of it.”

Ezra nodded. “We need a plan. First, we need to figure out where we are, how we got here, and if there’s any way to get back.”

Leika, meanwhile, had taken to ordering a mug of beer. “If we’re stuck here, I’m getting drunk,” she said, grinning as she raised her glass.

Ezra shot her a disapproving look. “Leika, we need to stay focused.”

“Oh, come on, Ezra,” Lenore chimed in, raising his own mug. “What’s the harm in having a little fun? It’s not like we know what’s going on anyway.”

As Ezra continued talking, Leika started flicking her tail toward Mona, teasing her with the pointed tip.

“If you do that one more time,” Mona growled, her voice low and dangerous, “I will cut it off and throw you out of the nearest window.”

Leika grinned. “You’d miss me too much.”

Mona’s hand went to her dagger, her green eyes flashing. “Try me.”

Ezra cleared his throat, trying to maintain some semblance of order. “Can we all just focus for five minutes?”

Eventually, they finished their food, the conversation continuing in fits and starts. Ideas were tossed around—some serious, some ridiculous—but no one had a clear answer for how they had ended up in this world, or how they were supposed to get out.

As the night wore on, they began to make their way to their rooms. Mona and Leika were the last to head upstairs, tension radiating between them as they walked.

When they entered their room, Mona immediately grabbed a pile of pillows and started building a wall down the middle of the bed.

Leika raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Mona didn’t look up. “This is how it’s going to be.”

Leika shrugged, too tired to argue. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Mona glared at her. “Don’t call me that.”

With a sigh, Leika flopped onto her side of the bed, her wings folding neatly behind her as she settled in for the night.

“Sweet dreams, Mona,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mona pulled the blankets tighter around her, her back to Leika.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as they both drifted off to sleep.