Norian rose after a few moments, a small smile tugging at his lips. The weight on his chest had vanished, as if the disappointments and expectations he'd carried for so long had dissolved into the cool night air.
'It's gone,'
He thought, marveling at the lightness in his heart.
'All that pressure… just gone.'
He stepped into the forest, feeling lighter, more alive, as if the world had unburdened him. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the sweet, earthy scent of moss and leaves, his senses awakening.
'This place—it's like it's breathing with me.'
He looked up, and there it was—the moon, casting a silvery glow that transformed the forest into a dreamscape. Glowing mosses pulsed softly, birds chittered and darted through the trees, and animals played in peaceful harmony.
'It's more beautiful than I ever imagined,'
Norian thought, his smile widening as he wandered, his steps surer than yesterday. He found the canal he'd visited before, its water clear and inviting. Kneeling, he drank deeply, the familiar taste sparking a quiet joy.
'Still the same, like it's welcoming me back.'
He laughed, splashing water over himself, unbothered by the chill. Strangely, despite being soaked, no cold crept into his bones.
'Why don't I feel the cold? It's like the forest is protecting me.'
Emboldened, Norian roamed deeper, marking his path to a smaller niche he'd claimed as his own. The forest unveiled its secrets: glowing herbs that scented the air with spice, mythical creatures that shimmered in the moonlight.
A fox-like beast with two tails and a white leopard with fish-fin tails and horse-like legs caught his gaze. Its beauty stole his breath, his heart stuttering as it met his eyes before vanishing into thin air.
'What… was that?'
He thought, caught between awe and disbelief.
'It's real, but it's gone, like a dream.'
For a moment, awe tangled with a flicker of unease, but no fear followed. The forest felt safe, alive with a magic that spoke to his newfound freedom.
'This place trusts me. I can feel it.'
Though his mind carried a faint weariness, the forest's wonders fueled him.
'I'm tired, but I can't stop,'
He thought, his heart racing with joy and curiosity. 'There's so much more to see.'
Happiness pushed him onward, urging him to explore until the first hints of dawn brushed the sky. As sunlight neared, the forest's glow faded, its creatures retreating as if wary of the day's harsh light.
The vibrant green mosses dulled, and the pungent, rotten smell returned. Norian watched, heart pounding yet calm.
'It's hiding now, but it's real,'
He thought, a small smile lingering.
'I saw it. I know it'll come back with the moon.'
He slipped back to his niche, a cozy corner shielded from the cave's entrance. Settling into a comfortable position, he let the forest's daytime decay fade into the background.
The stench was bearable now, a small price for the magic he'd witnessed.
'It smells awful, but it's not so bad anymore,'
He thought, his nose wrinkling slightly.
'I've seen what this place really is.'
Within minutes, Norian's eyes grew heavy, and he drifted into sleep, carried by the quiet peace of a heart unburdened.
'I'm free,'
He thought, just before sleep claimed him.
'For the first time, I'm truly free.'
*****
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✶ Dimension Walker ✶
✧ The Veiled Paragon ✧
⊱ Eternal_Void_ ⊰
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*****
Three days had passed since Norian realized this forest was alive, a mystical realm that slept under the sun's harsh light and woke in the moon's silver glow.
Five days total since he'd been thrown into this strange world, each night spent wandering, mouth agape at wonders that hit him like a tidal wave.
Vines that shimmered like LED strips, fox-like creatures with twin tails that dissolved into starlit mist, and trees that hummed low, electric tunes—the forest was a freaking spectacle.
'This is next-level,'
He thought, heart racing as a butterfly with crystal wings flickered past, scattering prisms across the leaves.
'Like, how does this even exist?'
He'd turned nocturnal, scrounging for fruits under the stars, munching on berries and weird, juicy pods that popped like candy. At first, every snap of a twig had him jumping, the memory of the Myrkolym's slimy tentacles in that swamp clawing at his nerves.
'What if something's watching?'
He'd thought that first night, clutching a stick like it'd save him. By the second night, the forest's gentle vibe had dulled his panic. Now, on the third night, fear was just a faint buzz, drowned out by the forest's glow.
'This place feels… safe,'
He thought, smirking as he tossed a glowing fruit in his hand.
'Like it's got my back.'
The forest was his safe haven, a pocket of pure vibes and light where danger seemed impossible. He roamed like he ran the place, chest out, no need to check his six.But even now, a nagging thought lingered.
'The world doesn't need me,'
He thought, echoing his previous epiphany,
'but why do I still want it to?'
He shook it off, focusing on the forest's pulse. Maybe he was still waiting for something—a sign, a purpose, someone to see him.Norian woke at dusk, explored till dawn, then crashed in his cave, the day zipping by like a fast-forward.
The cave's gross, moldy stench—once a gut-punch—barely fazed him now.
'Smells like a dumpster, but I'm over it,'
He thought, flopping into his niche. He'd scaled hills like the one he called home, their slopes carpeted with glowing moss that lit his path. Over three nights, he'd seen straight-up magic: a stag with antlers like burning embers, a pond that mirrored constellations he didn't recognize, and vines that twisted like they were alive, vibing to some silent beat.
'This forest is flexing,'
He thought, eyes wide as a tree's bark shimmered like molten chrome.
'I could stay here forever.'But he couldn't. Tonight, on the highest hill, wind whipping through his hair, Norian stared out. A river gleamed in the distance, splitting the forest like a blade, with a mountain looming beyond, its peak stabbing the clouds.
It looked close enough to hit by morning, but this world played tricks—something in the air or the magic stretched distances. 'Bet it's a slog,' he thought, frowning.
'Looks like a quick jog, but it's probably a full-on hike.'
Behind him, the swamp crouched, its gnarled trees and faint black tentacles swaying in the dark. His skin prickled, the Myrkolym's shadow creeping into his head.
'That place is a hard no,'
He thought, gut twisting.
'Almost died there. Not going back.'
He'd barely glimpsed the swamp when he first arrived, too freaked to look closely, and he wasn't about to now.He sat, the breeze chilling his face, and let his mind wander.
Three nights had rewired him. The forest's magic had cleared the fog in his head, sharpened his goals: become a strong walker, tough enough to never get punked again.
'No more being pushed around,'
He thought, jaw tight.
'Not here, not anywhere.' He'd been bullied before—maybe in this world, maybe the last—and it stung. But to get there, he had to awaken fully as a walker, whatever that meant.
'Sounds like leveling up in a game,'
He thought, half-grinning. 'But I'm clueless where to start.'
A settlement was his best shot—people native to this world would know the deal. Rivers meant life, towns, answers.
'Every civilization's by a river, right?'
He thought.
'Gotta find one.'
Still, that nagging expectation tugged at him.
'What if they don't care about me either?'
He thought, staring at the river.
'What if I'm still invisible?'
He shoved the thought down, standing tall. The river was far, through valleys and thickets, but he was ready.
'This forest gave me a reset,'
He thought, glancing at the glowing trees.
'Time to move.'
He turned from the swamp, its darkness a middle finger to his new vibe.
'Screw that noise,'
He thought.
'I'm chasing the light.'
***
Norian crouched at the cave's entrance, his makeshift water pouch slung over his shoulder, the animal hide soft against his skin. The forest sprawled before him, a kaleidoscope of life under the moon's pearlescent glow.
He'd spent days preparing, scavenging, planning—every moment driven by the need to reach the distant river, his only shot at completing this mission.
He couldn't stay here forever, trapped in this cycle of glowing nights and rotting days. The river was his goal, but it was far—too far to cross in one day, maybe even two.
His heart skipped at the thought of traveling through the forest's daytime decay, where beasts like the Mire Golem lurked.
He'd need to move fast, hide smart, and hope he was ready.For days, he'd roamed the forest at night, when it pulsed with magic. The trees towered above, their bark etched with veins of emerald, sapphire, and amethyst, glowing like living circuits.
Shimmer-shimmer.
Leaves unfurled in vibrant greens, their edges kissed by a soft, radiant sheen, swaying gently as if the forest itself breathed.
Whooosh.
Moss carpeted the ground, plush and glowing faintly, springy under his bare feet each step sparking bursts of light that rippled outward like tiny stars.
Vines curled up trunks, blooming with flowers that pulsed like heartbeats, their petals radiating hues of violet, turquoise, and crimson. Butterflies spiraled through the air, their wings shimmering like stained glass, catching the moonlight in a dance of color.
Birds with prismatic feathers flitted through the canopy, their songs weaving a melody that vibrated in his chest. The air carried a crisp, sweet scent, like fresh dew mixed with blooming flowers, laced with an electric tang that made his skin tingle.
This was the forest at its peak, a cathedral of life that felt like it was welcoming him, urging him to move forward.He'd scoured this vibrant nightscape for anything useful to carry water.
The river was too far, and he had nothing—no bottles, no canteens, just his tattered clothes and stubborn will. He'd found a small animal hide one night, tucked among glowing ferns—a creature the size of a rabbit, likely dead from natural causes, its fur matted but intact.
The sight had twisted his stomach; using it felt wrong, like defiling the forest's magic. But survival didn't care about his feelings. He'd also found a sharp stone, its edge gleaming faintly under the moonlight, perfect for cutting.
With it, he sliced the hide and washed it in the magical stream he'd discovered nights ago. The water, sparkling like liquid crystal, worked wonders.
It cleansed the hide completely, stripping away the faint rot-smell and leaving it soft, pliable, and faintly sweet, like the forest's own perfume. He'd shaped it into a pouch, stitching it with tough vines that glowed faintly at night, tying them tight to hold the water.
Testing it, he'd filled it with the stream's glowing water and found it held perfectly, no leaks, the hide now a practical tool that carried the forest's magic.Norian had also crafted a weapon, a crude but functional spear.
He'd found a sturdy branch, its wood smooth and warm to the touch, pulsing faintly with the forest's energy. Using more vines, he'd tied another sharp stone to its tip creating a point that could pierce or slash if needed.
It wasn't much, but it was better than facing the daytime forest empty-handed. The memory of the Mire Golem's stench, its jagged teeth, and that bone-rattling roar from days ago still haunted him.
If something came for him in the daylight, he'd at least have a chance to fight back.His biggest challenge was the journey itself. The river was a distant goal, its location vague but critical, tied to the mission he barely understood.
He'd reasoned that traveling only at night, when the forest was safe and alive, wasn't enough. The distance was too great, and the forest's daytime decay hid dangers he couldn't ignore.
He'd need to move during the day, too, despite the risks. The thought made his stomach but staying put meant failure, or worse, death. He'd considered hiding during the day, maybe climbing a tree to avoid ground-dwelling beasts.
The forest's trees, even in their decayed daytime state, were tall and gnarled, offering potential cover. But climbing wasn't easy. The moss, slick even at night, made every grip treacherous. Slip-slide. He'd practiced for hours, hauling himself up trunks, his hands scraping bark until his muscles burned.
After countless falls he'd finally managed it, reaching a high branch and perching there, the forest's glow spreading below like a sea of light. He'd noticed something else: his stamina was better than he'd expected.
He wasn't collapsing from exhaustion as quickly, his breaths steadier his body stronger. He chalked it up to the forest's magic, maybe the healing water or those glowing berries he'd eaten nights ago, their sweet taste still vivid in his memory. Or maybe it was the chase—running from the Mire Golem, the ting of some unknown power sparking in him, though he still didn't understand his innate ability.
It was too vague, too untested, so he pushed those thoughts aside. No point dwelling on what he couldn't control.He was ready. The pouch hung heavy with water, the spear rested against the cave wall, its stone tip catching the moonlight. But he didn't want to leave—not yet.
This forest, with its nightly miracles, felt like the first place he'd ever belonged. Veltharion's gray streets, the orphanage's cold walls, the taunts of "cursed"—they were a world away.
Here, at night, he was just Norian, a guy who'd survived, who'd tasted magic, who'd found a spark of hope. He decided to stay a few more days, soaking in the forest's glow, delaying the inevitable.
The journey would test him, maybe break him. The daytime forest was a graveyard of rot, where beasts roamed and danger waited. He wasn't strong, not like the heroes in Veltharion's stories, but he had his spear, his pouch, and a stubborn need to keep going.
-To Be Continued