Garrick's fist hammered against our door before the ninth bell's final echo faded. "Up! North Gate in fifteen!" The sharp command cut through the predawn gloom. I scrambled awake as the door thudded open. Garrick filled the doorway, clad in black-scaled leather armor, the enormous hilt of his longsword rising over his shoulder like a threat. Without a word, he tossed our pre-packed field bags onto our beds.
We spilled into the dim hallway. Lira leaned against the opposite wall, already alert, her reinforced gauntlets strapped tight. "Took you long enough! Garrick practically launched me out five minutes ago."
"Efficiency was... enforced," Raven muttered, adjusting his spectacles with precise fingers. Kael moved like a shadow beside me, silent and unnervingly watchful. Wren stifled a massive yawn, hands instinctively brushing the hilts of his twin blades. "Couldn't we get the scenic route? After breakfast?"
"Move." Garrick turned and strode down the hallway, his armored form clearing a path through the few other bleary-eyed students emerging. We followed, a tight, tense procession through the sleeping corridors – boots scuffing stone, gear clinking softly, the rhythmic creak of Garrick's armor and the harsh scrape of his sword scabbard the dominant sounds.
Instead of heading towards the main North Gate, Garrick led us down spiraling, narrow stairs into the academy's deep foundation. The air grew thick, damp, and hummed with a latent energy that prickled my skin like static. We entered The Gate Hall, a vast, echoing chamber hewn from bedrock, smelling sharply of ozone and ancient, potent magic. At the far end stood the Portal Gate.
Within a massive archway carved with intricate, glowing runes, a vortex of vibrant green energy swirled and pulsed. Tendrils of emerald light danced and cast shifting patterns on the stone floor. Ahead, a group stepped into the shimmering surface. A soft *thwump*, a brief, intense flare of green light, and they vanished.
Garrick positioned us directly at the threshold. "Stay close. Don't resist. Go!" His voice brooked no hesitation.
I stepped forward into the swirling light.
Reality fragmented. Solid floor vanished beneath my boots. Light warped violently, colors bleeding into blinding spectrums before being utterly consumed by overwhelming, all-encompassing green. A bone-deep tingling surged through every nerve, vibrating my teeth. My stomach lurched violently, threatening to rebel. Time stretched, distorted. Beside me, Wren gasped sharply, Lira cursed under her breath.
Then, abrupt finality.
*Thwump.*
Solid ground slammed beneath my boots. Blinding, unfiltered daylight assaulted my eyes, replacing the emerald void. I staggered forward, instinctively catching Raven's shoulder for balance. My team reeled around me, swaying, blinking rapidly against the sudden brilliance. Kael landed in a controlled crouch beside me, instantly stable, eyes already scanning. Lira stumbled, bracing hard against my arm. "Whoa... intense," she managed, voice thick.
We stood in the Drop Zone – a vast, open field of wind-rippled golden grass dotted with moss-flecked stumps. On three sides, the immense, ancient trees of Heartwood Forest formed a towering, vertical green wall. The air was startlingly crisp, laden with the rich scents of damp earth, pine resin, and wildflowers. Other groups materialized nearby with disoriented *thwumps*. Some stumbled, retching. The constant hum of the portal faded, replaced by the deep, living sounds of the forest: the buzz of insects, distant bird calls, and the susurrus of countless leaves rustling high above.
Garrick materialized beside us, utterly unaffected, as if stepping off a curb. He unrolled a thick parchment map with a snap. "Listen up. Your task begins now." He jabbed a thick, calloused finger at a marked area labeled 'Green Glade'. "Find a campsite within this boundary. Defensible terrain. Near reliable water." He swept his flinty gaze over us, lingering on each face. "Do not," he emphasized, the word sharp as a blade, "leave gear unattended. Other teams will raid. Lose supplies, you starve or freeze. Understood?"
Silent, serious nods answered him. Our packs suddenly felt much heavier.
Garrick grunted. "Move out. I observe. Intervene only if stupidity proves fatal." He stepped back, merging with the deep shadows near the massive portal arch like a wraith.
We shouldered our packs, the last dregs of portal dizziness fading, replaced by wary alertness. Raven consulted his map, orienting himself with the sun and distant peaks. "Primary stream flows from the southwest quadrant of the Glade. Securing a position adjacent to it, preferably on elevated ground, optimal." He pointed firmly in a direction leading deeper into the treeline.
"Sounds good," Lira said, flexing her gauntleted hands, the metal joints whispering. "Lead on, navigator."
We set off in a loose, practiced formation. The sounds of other students arguing or organizing faded rapidly, swallowed by the forest's deepening quiet. The terrain inclined gently. The air cooled noticeably as towering trees pressed closer, their dense canopy dappling the light on a lush understory of ferns and moss-covered rocks. Following the growing murmur of rushing water for nearly an hour, we pushed through a thick curtain of waist-high ferns and found it: a clear, fast stream cascading over smooth, dark stones. Above the eastern bank, nestled against a steep, vine-draped rock formation, lay a flat area carpeted in soft, springy ferns.
"Here," Raven announced, his voice low but carrying. "Rock face provides defensible rear. Clear sightlines downhill to the stream. Water access under a minute. Minimal blind spots."
"Perfect!" Wren agreed, shrugging off his pack with a relieved sigh. "Mark it quick!"
We descended the short slope to the stream edge, selecting smooth, fist-sized white stones from the bank. We arranged them in a clear, unmistakable circle at the edge of the clearing – claim officially staked. Only then did we lower our packs, tucking them securely against the solid rock base, camouflaging them carefully with loose ferns and fallen branches. A tangible sense of ownership and fragile security settled over the clearing. We ate sparing rations – dry hardtack, tart dried fruit – washed down with cold, refreshing stream water.
"Alright," Lira said, dusting crumbs from her hands, her earlier grin returning. "Neighborhood recon. Standard formation?"
Raven nodded. "Affirmative. Kael, rear guard – vigilance. Wren and I, center – detection, support, threat assessment. Adam, Lira, frontline – point of contact. Maintain spacing."
Anticipation and nerves settled in my gut like a stone. I adjusted the grip on my practice sword. Storm shifted, his claws tightening slightly on my shoulder pad, head cocked, listening intently. We moved out from our claimed camp into the deeper, cooler shade of the ancient forest. The natural sounds seemed louder now, a complex hum. We hadn't gone far when a low, resonant *thrum* vibrated up through the soles of my boots. Ahead, partially obscured by thick, waist-high ferns, crouched a creature the size of a large mastiff. Its segmented carapace was iridescent blue-black. It raised its heavy head, revealing massive, clicking mandibles that glowed with an unsettling amber light. *Starfall Beetle - E-Rank.*
Recognition flashed instantly. Lira exploded forward. "Frontline! On it!" Her left gauntlet snapped up, intercepting a sizzling bolt of amber energy that seared the air precisely where I had been standing a heartbeat before – intense heat washing over my cheek as I dodged hard to the side. Lira closed the distance in two powerful bounds. Her right gauntlet hammered down onto the beetle's domed head – *thunk!* Simultaneously, her left gauntlet clamped onto the base of the glowing mandible, wrenching sideways with brutal force and a sharp *crack!* Before the stunned creature could recover, her right fist slammed down again, crushing the vulnerable junction between head and thorax. The beetle emitted a final, pathetic chitter, legs scrabbling weakly on the moss, then fell still, the amber glow in its mandible fading rapidly. Lira stepped back, shaking her stung hand slightly. "See?" she panted, flashing a fierce grin my way. "Frontline fun. You okay? That blast looked toasty."
"Fine," I managed, sliding my half-drawn sword back into its sheath, my heart pounding. "Quick. Good hit."
Wren moved past me smoothly, drawing a slender skinning knife. He knelt beside the cooling carcass. With quick, precise cuts, he extracted the segmented mandible assembly, revealing a thumbnail-sized amber crystal nestled within the chitinous structure, then pried off two sharp mandible tips. He wiped them clean on moss. "Useful bits," he announced, tucking them into a small pouch on his belt. "Trade or components."
Kael watched silently from the rear, his dark eyes constantly scanning the surrounding ferns and shadows. Raven remained vigilant a few paces back, his short spear held ready, gaze sweeping the treeline.
Lira stretched, sunlight glinting off the polished metal of her gauntlets. "One beetle down. Let's see what else the Green Glade has in store for us." The forest seemed to hold its breath around us.