The portal closed behind him with a ripple, folding the air like water over itself. Zephan stumbled forward, catching himself on a gnarled root. His coat clung damp to his skin, and his jeans and sneakers felt out of place against the rough earth beneath him. And yet… he knew this place.
A flicker of recognition curled in his chest. Déjà vu, subtle but insistent. The hills, the mist curling between ancient trees, the scent of damp pine and iron—they felt drawn from fragments of dreams he had glimpsed since childhood. Pieces of visions, flashes of otherworldly paths and movements, now aligned perfectly with the world before him.
Beneath his feet, the ground thrummed softly. The realm had sensed him, sending a ripple outward. Somewhere, far across three kingdoms, watchers would feel it. Assassins would stir. They knew a foreigner had arrived. They knew his name—but not his face.
"Keep close," Gabriel said, his voice low but precise. Zephan fell into step beside him, following the lean, deliberate movements of the messenger through the thickening mist.
The hollow they moved through was alive with sound: leaves brushing without wind, distant voices in unknown languages, the faint echo of hooves far off, and the soft hum from the ground beneath their feet. Every sense sharpened. Every instinct whispered warning. And then Zephan felt it—a subtle, deliberate presence threading through the mist.
"Do you see it?" Zephan whispered, barely moving his lips.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Not wind. Not animal. Someone is tracking us."
Zephan swallowed, adrenaline humming along his nerves. "Can we outrun it?"
Gabriel shook his head slightly. "Not by speed alone. We move quietly. We use cover. And you watch—observe everything. That is your advantage."
A shadow flickered at the edge of vision. Small, lithe, deliberate. Hooded form, moving between trees with uncanny precision, silent but fully aware. Zephan's chest tightened. He recognized her, or at least the pattern of movement. Flashes of dreams—the fluid arcs, the calculated pauses—coalesced into this moment. She was female. That much was clear. Dangerous, patient, precise.
Gabriel gestured toward a deeper hollow. "We need more cover. Follow me."
Zephan nodded, ducking low, moving silently through the mist. He cataloged everything: the angle of her shoulder, the glint along a strap, the soft exhale she gave through her hood. None of it escaped him, each detail imprinting itself.
"Why is she waiting?" Zephan asked quietly, curiosity pressing against tension.
"Assassins of this realm don't act until the moment is perfect," Gabriel replied. "Patience is part of their skill. She may not know who you are, but she knows what we represent."
Zephan absorbed that, stepping carefully over roots and uneven ground. The forest seemed alive, watching, breathing with him. Every sound, every scent mattered: the tang of iron in the mist, pine resin, faint smoke drifting from distant fires.
Gabriel stopped abruptly, pointing to a tree hollow hidden by mist. "Here. Quick change."
Zephan stripped off his soaked coat and city clothes, stepping into the rough tunic and boots Gabriel handed him. The fabric clung oddly at first but settled snugly, blending him into shadows.
"Better?" Zephan asked, voice low.
Gabriel scanned the surroundings. "Enough. But every second counts. The signal you carried through the portal has been noticed. They'll move soon. Stay alert."
Zephan exhaled slowly, letting tension seep into focus. "It's strange," he admitted. "I feel like I've been here before… like I've seen all of this already."
Gabriel's gaze softened slightly, rare in his tense demeanor. "You've glimpsed it, in fragments. Dreams or premonitions. That is why the Council chose you—they sensed what you could perceive."
Zephan let that settle. A thrill coiled in his chest. He had accepted the scroll, knowing only that he would be called. Now, standing in the forest, he understood a fragment of why.
They moved again, deeper into mist, shadows among shadows. Zephan's pulse remained measured, but every sense screamed awareness. And then he felt it again—a presence threading through the trees, calculated, poised, deliberate.
The shadow moved like a ripple in water, a hooded figure sliding between trees. Zephan's eyes caught the tilt of her head, the curve of her shoulder, the slight flash of something strapped to her belt. She was observing, waiting, and her patience was deadly.
Gabriel paused, leaning close. "We move now. She will sense hesitation. Follow precisely."
Zephan obeyed, crouching low. The forest seemed to hum with expectation, each movement critical. Every footfall, every breath, measured.
"Can she track us through the mist?" Zephan asked quietly.
"Not yet," Gabriel replied. "But she will if we slow. Stay ahead of her awareness."
The hollow gave way to a slight ridge, a narrow corridor of trees providing temporary cover. Zephan moved silently, cataloging every detail, letting instinct guide him. The shadow remained at the clearing's edge, poised and still.
He caught a brief reflection in a misted pool—a hooded figure, slim, agile, female. It vanished before he could process more.
"They're precise," Gabriel whispered, voice low. "Every movement is deliberate. Never assume she won't find you."
Zephan nodded, letting tension and focus blend. He had not trained for this world, had no weapons, yet attention was his ally. Every detail might save them.
They pressed onward, deeper into the forest, disappearing into thicker mist. The shadow lingered at the clearing's edge, a silent observer in silver moonlight. Zephan felt its presence, recognized it as he had in dreams, and yet did not panic. Only alertness, only observation.
Finally, they reached another hollow, narrow and protected, mapped by the Council as a temporary safe point. Zephan crouched beside Gabriel, hood pulled low, listening to the distant stir of forest life.
"First step done," Gabriel said, voice quiet. "But it will not stay safe long. She will move soon."
Zephan exhaled slowly. "I understand. And yet… it feels right. Even if dangerous."
Gabriel's eyes met his briefly, sharp but acknowledging. "You will need that clarity. Curiosity alone will not save you."
Above them, twin moons cast pale light through the mist. The shadow lingered at the clearing's edge, poised, silent, a presence both unseen and unmistakable. Zephan and Gabriel slipped deeper into the forest, disappearing into darkness, but the figure remained, watching.
And in that tense, charged moment, Zephan understood: the first danger of this realm had already found them.