The forest ended without warning. One moment Elias walked beneath towering trunks and shifting shadows, and the next he stepped into open light. The sudden brightness made him narrow his eyes. The sky stretched endlessly above him, an ocean of blue he hadn't seen in years. Grasslands extended toward distant hills, dotted by caravan trails and winding dirt roads.
The world beyond Duskwood was louder than he expected. Even the wind felt different—carrying scents of dust, warm earth, and smoke. Human smoke.
He stood at the tree line for several seconds, simply breathing. The forest behind him hummed with the quiet familiarity of survival. Everything ahead was unknown. A new battlefield.
He stepped forward.
His shadow hesitated a heartbeat before following.
The dirt felt strange beneath his boots. In the forest, every step demanded attention—roots, holes, shifting ground. Here the road ran flat and predictable, packed by countless feet and wagon wheels. He moved silently, hood up, eyes sharp as he scanned everything: movements, voices, tension in the air.
People stared as he passed, whispering.
"He walks weird…"
"Too quiet."
"Is he mute?"
Elias ignored them. Not dangerous. Not worth attention.
A wagon clattered beside him, pulled by a pair of sturdy oxen. The driver, a broad-shouldered woman with braided hair, slowed until she matched his pace.
"Hey, kid!" she called. "Heading to Greyhawk Town?"
He gave a small nod.
"It's a long walk. Hop in if you want."
He studied her. No greed. No threat. Just a tired traveler offering convenience. That alone made her stand out more than most people he'd met in either life.
"Why?" he asked.
She blinked. "Because you're small and the road is big?"
The other passengers laughed. Elias didn't. But he climbed onto the wagon.
Inside, a young girl with a basket of herbs stared at him.
"You're pale," she said.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Born that way."
"Oh."
She kept staring.
Elias shifted slightly, suppressing the ripple in his shadow before anyone noticed. The merchant across from him—an older man covered in rings—leaned forward with a grin.
"You've got the look of someone who's lived through too much."
Elias tilted his head. "…Have I?"
The man chuckled. "Yep. That's the face. 'I know things I shouldn't at my age.'"
Another merchant snorted. "Nah. He's got the 'stay away from me' aura. Gives me chills."
Elias turned toward the window. "That makes two of us."
The second merchant's face tightened.
The driver laughed loudly. "Leave the kid alone! Let him brood."
Brood? He wasn't brooding. He was thinking—observing the rhythm of the road, the movement of clouds, the number of guards in distant caravans. This world had too many variables, too many minds to track. The forest had been simpler.
Hours later, the wagon rolled to a stop before tall wooden gates. Greyhawk Town rose from the plains, ringed by short stone walls and watchtowers. Guards checked wagons. Hunters sold pelts. Adventurers argued over prices. For the first time in years, Elias was surrounded by so many voices he couldn't distinguish them individually.
He stepped down.
"Thanks," he said softly.
The driver waved him off. "Get a bath, kid! You smell like a forest ghost!"
Elias didn't smile, but something eased in his chest.
Noise crashed into him the moment he passed the gate. Vendors shouted, blacksmiths hammered, horses snorted, adventurers exchanged stories. He scanned everything—searching for threat patterns, blind spots, escape routes. Greyhawk wasn't large, but it felt dense, alive, unpredictable.
His attention drifted to a large wooden board crowded by adventurers. Sheets of parchment covered it—missions, bounties, requests for escorts, herb gathering, beast clearing.
Structure. Organization. A way to gather coin and understand the world.
He approached the board.
Most missions were simple. A few looked dangerous. All were within reach.
Two armored adventurers approached behind him.
"Move, kid," one grunted. "Some of us need to work."
"I've already memorized the postings," Elias replied. "You can step closer."
"…Memorized?" the second muttered. "You read all that?"
"Yes."
"You're lying."
Elias recited several missions word for word. The men fell silent.
The first scoffed. "Watch the attitude."
He turned just enough to meet the man's eyes. "Threatening me won't change anything."
The man opened his mouth—then froze as Elias's shadow twitched, stretching for an instant like a thin claw reaching toward him. He stumbled back.
Elias didn't acknowledge him and walked away.
Inside the Hunter's Hall, noise and heat filled the air. Clerks behind desks processed adventurers of all ranks. Elias waited for an opening and stepped forward when a tired clerk called for the next in line.
"I want to register."
She looked up. "…How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"You're alone?"
"Yes."
"Do you have combat experience?"
"Yes."
She studied him a moment longer, then sighed and slid a small metal badge across the counter.
"You start at Copper Rank. Bring proof from a mission, and I'll evaluate your capabilities myself."
He nodded.
"Name?"
"Elias Vale."
She wrote it down. "Good luck. Try not to die."
He slipped the badge into his pocket. "I'll keep that in mind."
Back at the mission board, he chose something simple—gathering shadowleaf herbs in the northern woods. A low-risk task. He needed coin and needed to understand the local terrain.
A guard stationed near the gate watched him leave.
"…That kid's shadow looks wrong," the guard murmured.
Elias pretended not to hear.
The northern woods were thin compared to Duskwood, but full of life. Birds scattered as he entered. Insects buzzed. He crouched near a patch of herbs darkened by faint mana.
Shadowleaf.
He reached forward—
The earth trembled.
A boar-like beast burst from the brush, twice the size of normal livestock, eyes glowing with corruption. It charged.
Elias stepped sideways at the last moment, drew his dagger, and let his instincts guide the movement. His shadow sharpened behind him. The blade sliced a shallow cut across the beast's flank. It roared and turned.
He waited.
Controlled.
Measured.
As it lunged, he stepped into its momentum and drove the dagger beneath its jaw. A pulse of shadow rippled through the blade. The beast convulsed and collapsed.
Silence returned.
Elias cleaned the dagger on the grass, collected herbs, took the boar's tusk as proof, and headed back to town. The shadow beneath him stretched for a moment, pleased.
"Don't get used to that," he murmured.
The sun was dipping when he returned to the Hunter's Hall. The clerk looked up as he placed the items on her desk.
"You're back fast—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
"…You completed a Copper mission and killed a Rank D beast?"
"Yes."
"You weren't hurt?"
"No."
She exhaled slowly, shook her head, and stamped his mission slip. "I'll update your record."
Whispers rose behind him.
"That kid again."
"He took down that thing alone?"
"He creeps me out…"
Elias ignored them and left the hall.
That night, he sat on the rooftop of a nearby inn, watching lanterns flicker across Greyhawk. People talked and laughed below. Life moved in every direction, chaotic and vibrant.
This world wasn't like the forest. It wasn't like his past life either.
It was something else entirely.
A place filled with stories, dangers, opportunities.
"I need coin," he murmured. "A map. Information on academies. And a way to stabilize the fracture."
His shadow rippled at the last word.
"I know," he whispered. "We'll get there."
For the first time since the village burned, he allowed his eyes to close—not in exhaustion, but in thought.
Tomorrow, he would take a harder mission.
Tomorrow, the world would open a little more.
:)