3 Stary Night 1/2

EVERYTHING WAS quiet around him, but not one of those heavy or empty silences. It was a strangely pleasant peace. Perhaps that was what woke him up: the incongruity of the situation. Ayden grunted lowly and rolled onto his stomach to get to his knees. He rubbed his face hard to chase away the bells that were still ringing in his head with a rough hand. He felt heavy and sore as if crushed by an invisible weight.

"Themis, Rogan, are you guys all right?"

His hoarse voice surprised him, and he cleared his throat several times.

"Themis? Rogan?"

Ayden opened his eyes. He froze. Before him was a forest of unfamiliar vegetation, and he was sitting on the ground. Not on stone or bone, but on grass.

"What in the world..." he murmured, dumbfounded. "Themis? Ro'? Answer me, by all the gods!

He leapt to his feet, his eyes round, his heart racing. For no matter how much he might hope, how much he might pray, Ayden felt in his mind that the mental link between him and his comrades had broken: he could no longer feel their presence. In the middle of this unknown, there was only him in front of this forest of things. His hand went behind his back to close on the hilt of his two-handed sword, and he drew it, the blade shining under the moonlight. Beside him were the egg and the bag Themis had thrown to him before... What?

Before something carried him away?

Ayden turned to the egg and put his palm on it. But nothing happened. No shine, no movement. Nothing except the warmth he could feel under his fingers. Nothing at all. And Ayden remained like that, without moving for an eternity. A gentle wind blew up, shaking him out of his stupor, and he looked up at the sky.

He turned pale.

He ran a hand over his face, violently pushing his hair back as he stared up at the sky in horror and shock. None of the stars that shone were familiar to him. Even the moon was strange, so unnaturally large and bright. He could not look away, and slowly his weapon slipped from his fingers before falling to the ground with a thud.

He recognised nothing.

~*~

Ayden did not know how long he had been standing there facing the forest. His mind skated without ever discovering a satisfactory answer as he stared at these trees— plants? —with a lost expression.

The moon was still shining above him, eternally huge and round. It seemed to want to comfort him with its majestic presence, while he found it more and more incongruous the more he saw it. But more than anything, there was a kind of energy in this world. Everything around him pulsed with some sort of life, surrounding him with a dull whisper. It wasn't unpleasant; it wasn't pleasant.

He just didn't know what to make of it.

After an untold amount of time standing there, he finally pulled himself together and stood up. His two-handed sword still glowed with that black light and was whispering its joy in his mind.

No matter how frightening or disturbing others might find it, its presence relieved Ayden. The blade, at least, was still there with him. He wasn't alone, and he picked it up to face the wood. The egg had been hidden in the sack, and he had to shed his armour, the broken pieces bothering him as time went on by pressing on his wounds. All he had left was his shirt, burnt in places, and his canvas trousers, from which he had torn off a piece of leg to bandage his slashed palm.

During all this time, the surroundings had remained calm and peaceful. No roads were visible, and Ayden had appeared on the edge of a cliff whose height made it impossible to see what was below. He had no choice but to go into this forest. But there was no way he was going in without finding out what it was made of. Ayden split several trunks with his weapon in one swift movement before making a move to slice once more.

The sliced trunks fell to the ground with a thud as he approached to examine them. The round, bright green trunks were even in diameter from end to end, hollow at the core, with a knot of some sort at every equal distance. The leaves were stretched and thin, ending in a point and forming clusters here and there. They were hard, almost sharp and inedible.

He even licked a piece of wood to try, but discovering nothing more, he gave up and went to get his belongings. Armour on one shoulder, bag on the other and sword in hand, Ayden entered the forest without a backward glance, walking straight ahead without detours, his step firm.

No matter how lost he could be, he was also alone and could only rely on himself at that moment. Anxiety may have rumbled in his heart, but he could not afford to remain passive and do nothing. The first thing he needed was to find water, food if possible, and to heal his wounds. Then he could think of a way to get back to his family. And with this idea, he quickened the pace.

It took him half a dial before he got somewhere. The place was uninhabited and yet well maintained. After a moment of observation, Ayden finally approached the edifice constructed in the middle of this forest. The building was simple, made of dark wood, the many columns on either side forming a corridor without doors, but covered. The roof was already more complex, made of several floors whose corners ended in points. And no matter how much he thought about it, Ayden had never seen or heard of this kind of architecture.

Cautiously, he ambled through the construction with nothing to take cover, his blade in his hand, to approach the centre, the only enclosed area. When he was in front of it, he could see the finely carved doors. Strange arabesques he did not know covered their upper half, depicting a floral scene and unfamiliar curves, the hollow parts not allowing him to peek inside. Already ajar, he pushed the doors open with the tip of his cursed weapon and raised an eyebrow in surprise.