With one move of a foot onto a protruding rock, followed by a firm grip of a hand into a crack in the stone, Godwyn slowly made his way up the cliff. He was confident in his ability to climb this specific cliff as he had done it many times before, and there was no fear in his mind of the fall that awaited him should he slip. The rumours of foul beings within the darkness of the night were the only things that worried him much at all out in the woods – but here there was no darkness, and it was far from nightfall yet.

He heaved himself up over the edge with one last push, as he glanced up and managed to catch a glimpse of the view he had come for. As he sat down on the seat he had made of a nearby log he once more stared out in awe over the landscape that revealed itself to him. The forest of his part of the world turned to sandy cliffs and rocks beneath him and the cliffs and rocks turned to sand and the sand stretched out into a seemingly endless field of powdered rock. An ocean of sand lay before him.

Sitting there, it was like staring out over a different world entirely, wonderfully contrasting anything of his homeland, yet it laid so close – the two worlds, separated only by the cliff formation on which he sat.

Something that had interested Godwyn for a long time is how, sometimes, new rock formations seemingly appeared and disappeared under the course of a few months, weeks, or even days. Though it must all be in his head, he thought.

As he inspected the rocky border between the lands as he often did, he noticed that it seemed particularly insecure, as if it itself didn't know where it was, or where it should be. One moment it seemed clearly placed out only for new landscapes of rock or forest to appear mere seconds later, as if they’d always been there and always would be.

All the comfort Godwyn had felt when he initially arrived here was now gone – only dread and confusion remained.

I must be going mad, he thought as he tried to wrap his mind around what was taking place before him.

As his uneasiness grew, so did the sporadic nature of the betweenlands. His eyes shifted from new trees to rocks, and absence of parts of the forest that were much closer than he had ever seen the rockscape reach before, and he could now see the sands beyond growing closer – shifting towards him. He stood up to brace for the inevitable arrival of this unending reconstruction, and what would happen when it reached the cliff he was standing on, he couldn’t possibly know. He closed and covered his eyes as he couldn’t bear taking in the paradoxical landscape before him.

Suddenly, a great relief — as if some burden was lifted off his shoulders.

He wanted to open his eyes to see the aftermath of what had happened, but as he tried he found that he could not. The darkness inside his head had turned to reality around him and he found that he had been entirely relieved of his physical presence.

As he was drifting through nothingness — pure empty space — Godwyn could feel time losing its purpose. He couldn’t tell if seconds, minutes, hours, days – he didn’t know if years had passed since he first fell into this void.

In the emptiness he felt a growing presence of observation — as if something had been observing him for as long as he had been able to observe himself — not only his actions, but his feelings, opinions and the inner workings of his mind were all known to this entity. Godwyn didn’t know whether to rejoice in this newfound presence or fear its judgement, but he knew that whatever it was, it was inevitable.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE“

“YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE“

“HOW DID YOU GET HERE?”

The voice enveloped his mind completely as it echoed through his soul, although these weren’t mere words, rather a more absolute form of communication – a perfectly conveyed feeling and meaning inflicted right into his mind to convey precisely what was meant to be said.

The voice was feminine in nature and was as mighty as it felt caring and kind. He found that there was a comforting tone in the voice despite its unknown and mysterious origin.

“OH, BELOVED MINE — BE NOT AFRAID, FOR I SHALL RETURN YOU TO THE WORLD WHERE YOU BELONG.“

“BE NOT AFRAID, FOR I SHALL GRANT YOU A NEW FORM.“

“BE NOT AFRAID, FOR YOU ARE SAFE WITHIN MY CARE — ALWAYS AND FOREVER.”

Godwyn opened his eyes once more. He didn't know what to expect, but it was not the beautiful forests of his homelands. This particular part of the forest, however, was unfamiliar to him. He stood up to orient himself and made note of an opening in the forest, not too far away from where he stood. He instinctively made for the opening as he struggled to process what had happened to him.

The clothes he wore were not the same as the ones he had worn previously on the cliff — his old, tattered garments had been swapped out. Now he wore rudimentary, green tinted boots and pants, as well as a simple, brown shirt covered in a short cloak of green — all of it divinely comfortable. The cloak was simple, yet elegantly lined with a fine yellow which twinkled with specks of light as it moved, matching his boots and pants.

He walked up to the clearing and looked out over the landscape outside the forest. The forest ended where he stood, and beyond it laid a vast, open landscape bearing hills as far as the eye could reach. He shifted his focus to the right, and saw a river flowing there. It had carved its path right through the landscape, splitting it in two, as an axe would through wood.

As he stepped out of the forest he noticed that he was standing on a road. He followed it with his eyes to the left of him where he could see it slither into the forest and out of sight, and to the right it seemed to follow the forest edge for a bit, until reaching a small bridge crossing the river before continuing out of sight.

The sun was setting over the hills, leaving darkness in its absence, and the realisation of Godwyn’s situation started to set in, feeding the panic that had, until now, been overshadowed by his confusion.

“Who goes there?”

It caught Godwyn by surprise, and yet it was a great relief to finally regain contact with another person. The voice was firm and masculine, and carried with it a great sense of strength.

Godwyn turned to face the man, though he could barely see him through the darkness.

“You alright?” the man said — his voice hinting that the confusion was mutual between them.

Godwyn walked towards the man in an effort to see him clearer.

“Would it be wrong to assume that you feel a bit disoriented?”

“Where am I?” Godwyn asked, betraying his inner panic.

“Where did you come from?” the man asked. “These are practically wildlands. The nearest town is about fifteen kilometres down the road in that direction.” He pointed toward the part of the road behind Godwyn that reached a bridge.

“I come from Meadsbrey.”

“Meadsbrey?” the man said, confusion in his voice. ”Never heard o’ no Meadsbrey.”