The wet moss squelched beneath Derek "Hawk" Hawkins's boots as he stirred, groaning softly. His eyes fluttered open to an unfamiliar sky, where twin moons hung suspended above a canopy of ancient trees. Their pale light filtered through swaying branches, casting ethereal patterns on the ground. For a moment, his disoriented mind tried to place the scene—some orchard in Afghanistan? A training op back in Coronado? But no. The towering trees, their bark glowing faintly with streaks of blue luminescence, shattered any illusion of familiarity.
He sat up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles. The ground beneath him was soft with moss and fallen leaves, a stark contrast to the hard stone floors of the fortress they had fled. Memories rushed back: the desperate escape through collapsing halls, carrying the unconscious robed man, and finally stumbling into this dense forest under cover of night.
Nearby, Lieutenant Jason "Grim" Cooper stood watch, his rifle cradled in his arms. His silhouette was tense against the faint glow of dawn creeping through the trees—dawn under two moons. Marcus "Saint" Miller knelt by the robed man, checking his pulse and adjusting a makeshift blanket. A handful of battered survivors—knights in dented armor and hollow-eyed peasants—huddled together at the treeline, faces pale with exhaustion and fear.
Derek rubbed his gritty eyes and forced himself to his feet. "Morning, boss," he muttered hoarsely. "Or whatever counts as morning here."
Jason glanced over his shoulder but didn't relax. His gaze stayed fixed on the forest beyond their small clearing. "Looks like we made it deeper into the woods after leaving the fortress. We marched most of the night," he said quietly, then nodded at Derek. "You were out cold."
Derek nodded back, taking in their surroundings. The forest felt alive—not just with birdsong, but with something deeper, something he couldn't quite explain. The air hummed faintly, almost like static before a storm. He checked his rifle reflexively, mind flicking to the limited magazines he and the others had left.
"Any sign we're being followed?" Derek asked, keeping his voice low.
"Not yet," Jason replied, grim. "We saw no orcs once we were clear of the fortress walls. But I'm not betting we're safe for long."
Marcus straightened from his crouch by the robed man and approached them, wiping sweat from his brow. "He's stable enough," he said quietly, nodding toward the unconscious figure. "The salve those elves gave us is working—smells like mint and pine sap—but he's still weak."
Derek frowned at the mention of elves but said nothing. The memory of that first encounter—a lithe figure stepping from the shadows, bow drawn—still felt surreal. That same elf had guided them to this clearing before vanishing without a word.
Jason turned back to scanning the perimeter, knuckles white around his rifle grip. "We can't stay here long. This place might feel safe for now, but it's too exposed. If those orcs regroup or if Malachar's forces track us..."
As if on cue, one of the knights stirred near the treeline and pointed toward a distant cluster of trees. His voice was low and urgent as he spoke in a language none of the SEALs could follow.
"What's he saying?" Derek asked.
Marcus shrugged, gesturing for calm as he approached the knight. The man repeated himself, miming a motion that looked like walking or searching. Anxious curiosity shone in his eyes.
Jason narrowed his own. "He wants us to follow him?"
"Seems that way," Marcus said, returning with a faint smile. "Not like we've got a map or GPS."
Jason sighed and motioned for everyone to gather gear. "All right—let's move," he said. "But keep your eyes open and your weapons ready. We can't afford surprises."
The group set off cautiously, following their impromptu guide deeper into the forest. The trees grew denser, their trunks twisting into shapes that seemed almost deliberate—like ancient sculptures carved by hidden hands. Some glowed faintly near their roots, casting an eerie blue light on the path.
Derek fell into step beside Marcus. They navigated around gnarled roots and patches of glowing mushrooms that pulsed softly underfoot. "This place feels…alive," Derek murmured, suppressing a shiver.
Marcus nodded but kept alert, balancing the robed man's weight on his shoulder. "Everything is different here," he replied in a hushed tone. "Even the plants. Guess we should count ourselves lucky we can breathe the air."
After about half an hour, they emerged into another clearing—a secluded spot beneath towering oaks whose branches formed a natural canopy overhead. A shallow stream cut along one side, its water sparkling faintly in the strange light. The knight gestured toward a flat patch of moss near the bank, speaking again in his unfamiliar tongue.
"I think he's saying we can rest," Marcus interpreted, setting the robed man down gently.
Jason stood guard, scanning the perimeter with growing tension. "Fine," he said tersely. "But keep your eyes peeled. We have no idea if orcs are behind us."
As they paused near the stream, a flicker of motion at the edge of the clearing caught Jason's eye—an elf stepping cautiously out from behind a towering oak. He carried a slender bow over one shoulder and froze when he saw Jason's rifle aimed squarely at him, then slowly raised both hands in a gesture of peace.
Jason lowered his weapon a fraction but didn't relax. "Looks like our friend from last night decided to check on us," he said quietly.
The elf spoke softly in his melodic language before pointing to the robed companion and then off, deeper into the forest.
"He wants us to follow him again," Marcus guessed.
Jason studied the elf, trying to read his expression. If this stranger meant harm, he'd had plenty of chances already. They needed answers—about this world, about the robed man, about the swirling glyphs that had dragged them here.
"All right," Jason said finally, voice resigned but resolute. "Let's see where he leads."
With that, they gathered their gear once more, sharing cautious glances, and followed their enigmatic guide beneath the two pale moons. Every step they took away from the fortress and deeper into the forest felt like stepping further from everything they knew—yet maybe, just maybe, closer to understanding how to survive this strange new realm.