"Hey! Wait up!" Lorian shouted, scrambling to follow the man who had just saved his life.

As he stood, the absurdity of his situation struck him. His manhood remained exposed, and he quickly covered himself with his hands, sprinting awkwardly to keep up.

The forest felt alive, its pulse mirroring Lorian’s own, the canopy above thick and impenetrable. Shadows danced in the dim light, and every rustle or snap of a twig made Lorian flinch. The path was narrow, lined with unfamiliar flora that glowed faintly, casting an eerie light on their surroundings. Bird songs weaving through the air and crickets' melodies providing a haunting backdrop. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and a hint of something metallic.

The trees, ancient and gnarled, twisted into shapes that seemed almost familiar, as if plucked from the corners of Lorian’s memory. Occasionally, he would catch a glimpse of something fleeting in the periphery of his vision—an echo of a childhood toy, a fragment of a forgotten dream—only for it to vanish when he turned his head. The leaves whispered secrets that he couldn’t quite understand, their rustling forming a haunting, almost melodic pattern that tugged at his thoughts. Lorian shivered, recalling the monstrous chase, every shadow and sound a reminder of the lethal threats hidden in nature's beauty.

Lorian glanced back at the dense forest, his heart pounding. The image of the monstrous beast flashed in his mind, and he quickened his pace, staying close behind his silent savior.

The man's presence, though mysterious, felt like the only beacon of hope in the oppressive darkness.

"Can you at least tell me where we’re headed?" Lorian asked, awkwardly trying to keep himself covered.

The man ahead walked with a determined stride, his silence impenetrable. Lorian felt a growing unease, as if his words were swallowed by the dense forest. The man’s stoic demeanor suggested an unspoken warning.

'Maybe he isn't speaking because the animals in the jungle might notice,' Lorian speculated. 'His personality doesn't seem that sour, maybe I should follow him in silence too.'

The familiarity of the man nagged at Lorian. 'Where have I seen this guy?' he wondered, straining to recall any connection. But the answer eluded him. 'Might just be a coincidence, none of the people I knew were this much of a badass,' he thought, remembering how the man had swiftly dealt with the behemoth with a single arrow. As he recalled being chased by the monster, his breathing became ragged and his heart pounded on his chest yet again.

"Calm down—if your heart races, you might summon another Behemoth," the man warned, his sharp gaze catching Lorian’s shallow, rapid breaths. "This area isn't safe. We'll converse more once we're at the village's edge. Remember, the dawn follows the darkest night." He maintained unwavering eye contact with Lorian as he spoke, his voice steady and unyielding.

Lorian’s heart skipped a beat. 'If my heartbeat quickens? Are the creatures here able to sense a person's pulse? Wait...' Fear and curiosity intertwined as he followed the man closely. 'He said summon... don't tell me that Behemoth thing is summoned from my fear...' His mind raced with questions, but he bit his tongue, realizing that survival took precedence over answers for now. 'No more fearful thoughts from now on, Lorian. Think of good stuff, think of good stuff,' he chanted silently, trying to clear his mind.

'At least now I know why the trial was done,' Lorian mused, piecing together the grim logic. 'If monsters here appear from one being anxious, it makes sense to send people who can keep their calm in stressful situations.'

'The trial, huh?' His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he recalled the trial. His breath quickened, each inhale sharp and shallow. His eyes narrowed, emotions flickering, as if piercing the memory of the courtroom and striking down those who wronged him.

'Why me?' The question reverberated in his mind, each repetition a cruel echo that stabbed at his sense of justice. His jaw tightened, teeth grinding against each other, the anger surging through him like a relentless wave. His eyes, once a calm ocean, now flashed like storm-tossed waves. He pressed forward, muscles coiled and ready, every movement purposeful as if his very survival depended on it—because it did.

The injustice of it all clawed at his insides, gnawing away at his resolve. "I didn't ask for any of this," he muttered bitterly to himself, the words tinged with a mix of defiance and resignation. His chest tightened with a pang of hurt as he recalled the simple aspirations he once held, now shattered by the harsh reality of his circumstances. He felt crushed by an invisible weight, each step through the forest a reminder of his forced fate. His shoulders sagged under the burden of a destiny he hadn't chosen. In that moment, Lorian felt not just anger or frustration, but a profound sense of betrayal and helplessness that cut deep into his soul. His triumph in the trial was rewarded with nothing but deceit. His chest heaved up and down. 'They’ll regret this,' he promised himself, the words a silent oath carried with each determined stride.

"Trying to summon another Behemoth?" the man’s voice broke through, snapping Lorian out of his thoughts. Just as he spoke the man surveyed the surroundings for any signs of danger. His bow was already in his hands, his vigilance heightened.

"Sorry..." Lorian murmured.

'It's just that so much has been happening in my life that it's overwhelming me...' Lorian wanted to retort, but he kept it to himself.

"Always asking questions, never following instructions. Are you related to that idiot Holmes?" The man asked as he walked on.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Holmes?" Lorian’s face was puzzled.

"It's nothing. Keep moving. Forward, always forward," the man said, moving ahead at a measured pace.

As they walked in silence, Lorian couldn’t help but brood over his situation. The memories of the trial, the injustice, and the fear kept bubbling up, despite his best efforts to suppress them.

Sensing Lorian’s struggle, the man suddenly gestured for him to stop walking.

He then looked around the woods, listening intently, before putting his ear to the ground as though trying to discern any danger. Once he saw that everything was clear, he finally spoke.

"You know," he said, his voice calm and steady, "there's an irony about the mind."

Lorian looked at him, curious. "What do you mean?"

"The more you try to stop thinking about the bad stuff, the more your mind is inclined to think of it," the man explained. "It's a common struggle. Humans have a hard time letting go, but they can replace old thoughts with new ones."

Lorian frowned, trying to grasp the concept. "So, what am I supposed to do? Just distract myself?"

The man sighed first. "You're breathing fast. Try noticing your breath," he said.

"Huh?" As soon as the man said 'notice your breath', Lorian couldn't help but voluntarily breathe.

"Now try breathing involuntarily. Focus on not trying to control your breath," the man added.

"If I focus on not breathing voluntarily, it's impossible to breathe involuntarily! Only by doing something else can I..." Lorian finally realized what the man was getting at.

"Exactly," the man nodded. "It’s like trying to fall asleep; the harder you try, the less it happens. Or like trying to shift from voluntary to involuntary breathing—focusing on it only makes it worse. Instead, you need to distract yourself with something else."

Lorian mulled over this, finding a strange comfort in the man’s words. "That... makes sense. But what should I focus on?"

"Anything but the fear," the man replied. "Think about your goals, your plans. Focus on the steps you need to take to survive and get back home. Keep your mind occupied with productive thoughts."

Lorian nodded, feeling a flicker of hope. "I'll try. Thank you."

The man gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Remember, forward, always forward."

Lorian took a deep breath, determined to change his focus. 'That's right. There's no use thinking about all this now. I must survive this place and get back home,' he resolved. He began applying the anxiety control technique he had mastered, touching his thumb to each finger on his right hand, skipping the ring finger. This small, rhythmic action helped anchor his mind, providing a semblance of control amidst the chaos. 'If I do this right and maintain my calm...' His thoughts trailed off, a flicker of hope igniting within him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him to emerge from this ordeal unscathed. With renewed focus, he began looking around the landscape to gain some insight.

The man’s pace never faltered, his steps deliberate and confident. Every now and then, he would pause, his head tilting slightly as if listening to some distant, inaudible sound. His eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned their surroundings constantly, revealing an instinctual vigilance. The forest seemed to respond to his presence, the shadows retreating slightly as if wary of his determined spirit.

Lorian followed, his own steps growing steadier, more assured. As they moved forward, he couldn't shake the feeling that the man was more than just a guide in this perilous world. There was something about his unyielding persistence, his almost uncanny knack for navigating the dangers of this place, that felt oddly familiar. 'Even the advice he gave feels like something I have heard before. Why can't I remember though?' The realization lingered at the edge of Lorian’s consciousness, however the answer never came. Instead, Lorian began mimicking the man’s actions in remaining vigilant and took in the scenery within the forest.

Moss-covered stones dotted the ground, arranged in patterns too precise to be natural. Lorian stepped carefully, each footfall resonating with an oddly satisfying thump, like the beat of a drum in sync with his heartbeat. The glowing flora, upon closer inspection, bore an uncanny resemblance to neurons, their soft luminescence pulsing rhythmically, as if transmitting signals through the forest.

A distant, low hum pervaded the atmosphere, reminiscent of the sound of blood rushing through veins, a constant reminder of life’s flow. In the stillness, Lorian could hear his own breath, each inhale and exhale blending with the forest’s respiration. The metallic scent grew stronger as he progressed, evoking memories of hospitals and cold steel, places where time seemed suspended, much like the forest itself.

'Even the smell of this place... it reminds me of something...' Lorian sighed, 'Did that crash landing here give me an amnesia of some sort?' Lorian pondered as he followed the strange man.

After approximately ten minutes of walking, the two men approached a large fig tree. "Wait here," the man instructed, halting as he began to climb the tree with precision. Lorian observed, his gaze following the man's ascent until he vanished into the canopy above.

"Wait here," the man said, his voice steady as he began climbing up the tree with precision. Lorian watched him disappear further above until he reached the top, a shadow against the twilight sky.

'Strange... why does this tree look so familiar?' Lorian mused, tracing the rough bark with his fingertips. The patterns in the wood seemed to pulse gently, a mirror to the rhythm of his own heartbeat. 'It's like I've been here before, but... not quite. In another life, maybe?'

As his hands slid along the bark, the world around him suddenly blurred. The dense forest faded, replaced by a sunlit courtyard where the same large fig tree stood, its branches stretching wide.

"Hehehe," a boy's laughter rang out, piercing the stillness. A boy, about six years of age, was climbing one of the tree's branches. "I did it!!" he celebrated. Determined, he looked up at the next branch, his small face set with resolve.

Suddenly, the boy's foot slipped. He clung desperately to a smaller branch above him, his knuckles white with fear.

Crack.

"Arghhhhhhh!" The boy's scream echoed as he fell, landing hard right next to Lorian’s feet.

Lorian jolted back in shock, his heart pounding in his chest. The boy lay unconscious, his tiny form still and vulnerable. Lorian felt an overwhelming urge to help, but his body was frozen in place, trapped by the weight of the moment.

"Lorian!" A woman's voice broke through the fog of his mind. A woman came rushing towards the boy, panic etched across her face. "Mom!" Lorian whispered, recognizing her instantly. It was his mother.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice trembling as she cradled the fallen boy. "Are you okay?" The words echoed in Lorian’s ears, growing louder, more insistent, until they drowned out everything else. He was too shocked to move, he stood there, staring blankly at the scene unfolding before him.

"Are you okay?" The voice became deeper, more masculine with each repetition, morphing into the voice of the man who had been guiding him.

A hand on his shoulder jolted Lorian back to the present. The forest reasserted itself around him, the courtyard dissolving into the shadows of trees.

"Are you okay?" the man asked, his face filled with concern. Lorian looked around, disoriented but slowly grounding himself in the reality of the forest. He was still standing at the base of the tree, right where the boy had fallen in his vision.

"What....was that?" Lorian murmured blankly.