To Mark the impossible scene on the other side of the door had been, at best, a delusion. After all even if he’d found that strange card that changed images, and even if his sister was missing, there was no way that there’d be another world through the attic door. He stood leaned up against the door for a while, his mind racing while he wrestled with his own thoughts and feelings.

Finally he came to the only conclusion that made sense, and he once more opened the door in front of him. Once again he was greeted by a field of golden wheat or grass, along with that surreal landscape that included an actual castle.

Mark closed the door once again and turned away from it. “Okay, I might be crazy but at least consistent,” he told himself.

If Mark was smart he’d have turned and left the house, gone back to his own home and moved on with his life. He would’ve pushed the magic door out of his mind and never told anyone about it.

That would mean abandoning Sarah to the other side.

For Mark there was no choice. He left the attic and went back down to his car, opened up the passenger side door and then checked underneath the seat. A few minutes later he had his glock tucked into his ankle holster.

Mark started to go around the first floor, mostly in the kitchen, as he tried to gather up some food and other items like bandaids. He emptied out his suitcase and filled it with proper necessities, though he did leave a couple of underwear and socks. Before he finished packing he grabbed some of the toilet paper from the bathroom.

As he climbed the staircase he pulled out his flip phone and dialed up his friend. “Tom,” Mark said into the phone after the answering machine picked up, “it’s me, Mark. I know this is going to sound insane but listen, alright? Sarah vanished and I’m at the house and there’s this magic door in the attic with a weird magic key. I’m going to leave the key in the door and if I don’t show up in a week send help.”

Mark slipped the phone back into the pocket of his light jacket. With suitcase in hand he walked up to the door and opened it wide, and then he closed it.

“Yeah I should do that first,” he told himself as he put down the suitcase, and then he went to the bathroom.

A while later he had returned to the attic and picked up his suitcase again. He took a deep breath before he opened up the door once more, and then with a grimace on his face he walked through into the golden grass.

The first thing that Mark noticed was that the air was very warm, compared to the October chill that had been outside of the house. The second thing was that when he pulled out his flip phone and tried to use it it didn’t work.

“I guess this isn’t Earth?” he wondered aloud as he pocketed his phone once more.

Mark took a moment to look around now that he’d walked through the door. The golden grass field was massive, the forest so distant that he thought it would take him at least two hours of walking to reach it.

The far off forest itself had a mixture of dark greens and what looked to be purple leaves, though he wasn’t sure if that was an illusion caused by the distant shadows. Between where he stood and the forest there were no buildings or any other landmarks.

When Mark turned around he was surprised to see there was a mostly ruined stone cottage, the chimney long since collapsed and the straw roof filled with holes. The walls of the cottage had struggled to keep standing against the rigors of time, and somehow they had for the most part won.

The door that Mark had crossed through had closed behind him, a fact he hadn’t even realized until he looked. He hurriedly reached for the wooden handle on the door, the absence of a lock as well as an actual knob only worsening a mounting fear within him.

When he shoved the door inward that fear became a reality. The magical door he had used to enter this new place no longer seemed to exist, and that meant he was stuck potentially forever.

“Maybe that’s why Sarah never came back?” he wondered.

Mark let out a long sigh at that, but he tightened his grip on the suitcases handle and faced the forest. He began the long trek across the golden field, his gaze wandering skyward while he walked.

Far above the sun shone with a dull yellow that glistened off of the grass. White clouds floated serenely across a sky dyed a light azure. A pale light purple moon hung low, a little above the horizon line.

Halfway across the field Mark had started to sweat a lot, and the jacket he’d worn was taken off and draped over his right forearm. He swore a bit at how long he’d walked for already, but he tried hard to push on. At the very least he wanted to reach the forest before the sun set.

When he reached the forest about three hours later, according to his watch, Mark collapsed on the spot and rested on the cool grass that grew near the fringe. He rubbed his face into the grass, inhaling the scent of the gold grass that was so reminiscent of what he was used to.

“What the drolls you doing boy?” came a sudden voice from nearby.

Mark’s head snapped up in the direction of the voice as he clumsily climbed to his feet. It was a man who had called out to him, one who leaned casually against a long thin stick. The fellow wore what Mark could only assume was some sort of thin robe, with a sash tied around the waist.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The stranger gave a slight wave toward Mark before he spoke again, “I don’t understand why you’d be slouching around here, but mayhaps you need some help?”

“Uh...help? Yes!” Mark hurriedly brushed at some of the grass that had clung to his clothing, “I’m lost and definitely need some help.”

“Lost are you?” the stranger asked as he stared intently at Mark with his dark brown eyes, “I suppose I could help you to Cyme, at least the lasses there could help you wash up.”

“Cyme? Is that a town?”

“Boy, you sure you didn’t knock your head?” The stranger gave a shake of his head. “Course it’s a town, it’s the only town near here after all. Kit give me strength, I don’t think I can handle an addled one.”

“I’m not an addled one,” Mark claimed, before he offered his hand to the stranger, “I’m Mark Hadley. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hadley? That’s a new name to me,” the man said as he took Mark’s hand in his own and shook it, “I am Piers born of Dorian. I’ll hold off on saying it’s a pleasure until I’m sure you’re not sick with something.”

While the two separated from their greeting Mark glanced at the trees nearby. He’d spared minimal attention to them when he first arrived, but now that he was close enough he could tell the trunks had a slight twist to them. Even the branches had a slight spiral shape, though the leaves looked normal.

“Come now, Mark, we need to move before the Shrikes come about,” Piers said as he started to walk off deeper into the forest.

As Mark started to followed the stranger, since he had few options available, he realized that they weren’t walking in the rough direction of the mysterious castle. He thought to ask about it but didn’t want to alarm his newfound companion, since if he was abandoned now almost anything could happen.

The forest, though oddly warped, for the most part was similar to any he’d seen on Earth. Birds trilled to one another as they flitted about above their heads, while insects crawled around amongst the undergrowth.

A rumble in the distance brought with it a promise of rain, but Piers never showed any concern for the oncoming storm. Instead his leisure pace as they walked through the forest betrayed his earlier comment on the mysterious Shrikes.

It didn’t take long for Mark to start to get tired so he called to Piers for a small break. That brought a chuckle from the man but he made no move to argue. Instead Piers leaned up against one of the spiral trees, the stick he’d carried so far placed next to him.

Mark wrestled with the idea of asking a couple more questions, but he figured once again that staying quiet was probably the best way to go. Once he’d caught his breath he let Piers know and their journey started once again.

While they walked through the forest every so often Piers would reach up with his stick, swing it into the foliage above, and then a fruit would fall down. Sometimes he would managed to catch it before it touched the ground, though when he missed the fruit he still picked them up. The fruit were stored into a pouch that hung off of Piers back hip.

Outside of the forest the sun had started to set and the shadows thickened rapidly around Mark. He started to grow a bit anxious as he wondered if they shouldn’t stop to make a fire or something, but Piers never once paused and instead continued to push along.

After the sun had fully set small mushrooms that grew near the trunks of the spiral trees flared to life. White light was cast by each of them and soon there was a carpet of luminescence that made their trek all the easier in the dark.

When the shrill cry of some large bird sounded Mark went rigid, a shiver running down his spine. Ahead of him the reaction from Piers was entirely different, the man aimed his stick toward the ground and used the slender wood to vault up onto a low hanging branch. Piers bare feet made a light slapping sound as he landed on the branch, and then he turned toward Mark and extended one hand down.

“Come on, stop standing around!” Piers shouted at him.

Mark had stared at what he’d considered an insane showmanship of acrobatics by Piers, but the yell snapped him back to reality. Mark ran toward that hand and jumped up to grab it, but then promptly fell down on the ground butt first when he missed.

Mark groaned at the pain as he struggled to stand back up. “Why’d I even try to do that?” he asked himself.

“Boy, you best hurry and climb!” came a shout from above.

Mark was about to ask why when he heard another shrill cry from behind. He turned and saw what could only be called a very puffy bird on the ground, the overall size easily larger than any dog he’d ever seen. With a long neck Mark was reminded of an ostrich, but with a puffier look and a more hawkish head.

“Well isn’t he cu-” Mark started to say before he noticed what the bird had in it’s mouth.

A creature eerily similar to a rabbit hung in the mouth of the large bird, loose and obviously dead given all of the blood that dripped from it. Mark started to back away from the giant bird, his grip tightening on the suitcase handle in his left hand.

“It’s the Shrikes! Run or climb, boy!” Piers hollered from above.

The gaze of the Shrike snapped to Mark, the movements quick. With every step forward it did a slight bob of the head, but not once did it drop the rabbit it held. Instead the Shrike puffed up even further and shook it’s entire body.

Mark knew that if he tried to climb a tree it wouldn’t work, and if he tried to run he’d probably collapse long before the Shrike gave up. He leaned slowly down and reached with his free hand for the ankle holster.

A branch snapped to Mark’s left and when he looked he was greeted by the sight of another Shrike. The new one had no prey, was slightly smaller than the first, and was entirely focused on Mark.

There was that brief moment where time seemed to stop and both of the Shrikes stared at Mark, while he in turn stared at the newest one. He held his breath and made a small prayer, hoping that the stupid bird would go somewhere else.

Then the Shrike bolted right for Mark and all he could do was scramble quickly for the gun. The bird pecked at Mark before he could get the gun free, and he was forced to lift his briefcase up to ward off the attack.

Mark’s suitcase was ripped from his hand as the Shrike pulled back, the leather exterior having become snagged on the beak. The bird stepped away from him as it shook in an attempt to dislodge the suitcase.

Even Mark wasn’t dumb enough to let an opportunity like that pass, and he pulled his pistol from the holster while the Shrike was distracted. As he aimed it at the bird he caught a movement at the corner of his sight and instinctively threw himself back.

A large claw struck the air where he had been standing as the first Shrike had finally attacked. In a panic Mark fired at the bird, hitting the body a couple of times but also missing once. The reaction was instant, it recoiled and then took off in a mad dash away while blood oozed from the bullet holes.

With that one dealt with Mark turned back to the other. The second Shrike had put it’s head low to the ground and was in the process of using a claw to remove the suitcase. For this one he took his time and aimed properly, as Tom had shown him, and targeted the back of the head.

The glock made short work of the brainpan of the Shrike, as the insides splattered out from the thin skull. The bird slumped to the ground with the suitcase still stuck on it’s beak, a slight twitch every so often the only sign that it had only recently been alive.

Mark let out all the air he’d accidentally held in and forced himself to relax. He glanced at the forest around him but saw no other Shrikes nearby. He walked over and retrieved his briefcase from the beak of the Shrike, but the pistol wasn’t holstered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re from the Castle?” Piers inquired as he somersaulted down from above.

“What do you mean?” Mark frowned at the hole in his suitcase. He’d probably need to get some sort of backpack when they got to the town.

“That there was magic wasn’t it? Only the Castle has magic.”

“It’s a gun,” Mark responded, “uh...I guess it’s like a bow? You guys have bows right?”

“Course we got bows. If that’s not magic you best keep it quiet though, if the Castle boys see that they’ll take it by force.”

“Thanks for the warning. By the way I’m looking for a woman named Sarah.”

“Boy, you’re addled if you think I’d know anything about some lass. You’re better off waiting until we get to Cyme and talk to the gate boys.”

Mark nodded his head slightly at that, and then he stood there and quietly waited. Piers caught on quick enough and started to lead the way once more, heading in what seemed to Mark a random direction.

Meanwhile the forest only grew darker as the moon had vanished behind clouds as the rainstorm moved in closer.