The carriages thundered across the Wastelands, wheels kicking up clouds of dust that trailed behind them like smoke from an unchecked fire.
The horizon rippled with heat as the flat, endless plains gave way to something far more ancient—a jagged line of towering trees that split the sky like a wall of green flame.
Wind rushed past the open carriage windows, warm with the scent of wild grass and sun-soaked bark. For a fleeting moment, the recruits breathed freely, their senses ignited by nature's breath—until the forest swallowed them whole.
Darkness fell fast.
The trees loomed above like sleeping giants, thick branches locking together to seal off the sky. Shadows poured in waves as the light vanished, swallowed by the dense canopy. It was like plunging beneath the surface of a vast, still lake.
The laughter died. The talking stopped.
Then—
"It's okay, everyone! Don't be afraid!" Tana's voice rang out, cutting through the rumble of wheels and hooves pounding.
"We've entered the Forest of Twist and Turns!" she called again, her tone steady even as the wind whipped her words into fragments.
"Isabella! You're up!" Nozomu barked, not taking his eyes off the path.
Isabella stepped forward from the back of the lead carriage, her cloak fluttering around her like a ribbon caught in the wind.
Her eyes shimmered with Dyna, a soft glow blooming behind her lashes as she raised her hand to the dirt road ahead that twisted.
Quite literally.
The ground seemed to writhe beneath them, roots shifting, paths unfurling and spiraling as though the forest was redrawing the map in real time. Trails bent and merged, and stones lifted and fell.
The forest said nothing. But it watched. Then responded.
From the high branches above, tiny bluish-green creatures blinked into view. Their translucent forms glowed softly in the darkness, casting specks of soft light like floating embers in the gloom.
Identical in size and form, their round, expressionless faces held something childlike… and something much older.
They were like forest spirits etched from the myths of old—part whispering soul, part ancient warden—silent protectors of the wild.
There were dozens of them, maybe hundreds.
One by one, they leapt, drifting down from the treetops, landing gracefully on Isabella's shoulders and arms like falling petals.
She didn't flinch, and they didn't cling. They simply perched, light as feathers and just as unthreatening.
"What the hell...?" Bryce gawked, half-hanging out of the carriage. "Pentadraig! Curtis! You seeing this!?"
The two leaned out beside him, eyes wide.
"They're everywhere..." Curtis muttered.
"Hey, that's mine..." Arthur grumbled as a few climbed up the wooden sword by his side.
"They're adorable!" Aida reached toward one curiously, but it leapt from the edge of the carriage just before her fingers brushed it.
Behind her, the other recruits murmured in awe as more of the glowing beings landed among them, on seats, on shoulders, even atop Mimi's head, where one promptly curled up and closed its eyes.
Interest tugged at Theo until he couldn't hold it in any longer. He leaned toward Tana, eyes still tracking the flickering lights dancing through the air.
"What are they?" he asked, watching as several scurried up Dawn's arm.
She laughed softly as they perched on her shoulder, their light casting a faint shimmer across her hair.
"They're called the Aelreni," Tana answered. "They live here in the forest. We don't guide them—they guide us. They assist Guides like Isabella with finding safe passage through the forest's shifting paths."
Her gaze swept across the recruits, whose awe was clearly visible. "Be kind to them. Especially you boys, all Aelreni are women and are sacred to this place."
"Wait," David said, watching more of the Aelreni tumble from the trees like falling petals. "So, like… tour guides?"
Tana chuckled softly. "Not quite, but close. A 'Guide' isn't just anyone. It's someone the Aelreni have chosen. Someone blessed by their mother—Balanos."
"Balanos?" Aeda echoed.
"Her full name is Balanos of the Oak," Tana clarified. "She's the ruler of this forest. Divine. Without her blessing, anyone who enters this forest risks becoming lost forever."
Clarissa, wide-eyed, turned her head to the side as a small group of Aelreni rode peacefully atop Mimi.
"I've never even heard of her… or them."
"Of course you haven't," Tana said, pushing her glasses up with a sigh. "This would never make it into the school curricula... And I doubt anyone knows about them. We've only ever seen them here. No one knows their origin. But if I had to guess… they've been here way longer than we have."
"So does that mean the forest is off-limits to everyone who doesn't have a Guide?" Arthur asked.
Tana nodded. "Unauthorized entry is strictly forbidden—Guide or not."
Bryce opened his mouth to ask something else, but Tana reached over and covered it with her hand before he could get a word out.
"No more questions," she muttered. "Bella was right. You all do ask a lot of questions."
As the forest thinned, the light changed. The dense ceiling of trees broke apart above them, and the carriages spilled from shadow into golden dusk.
Branches gave way to open sky, and the gravel road unraveled ahead, sloping toward a stretch of ivory-white sand kissed by the sea.
A gust of wind swept through, salty and alive, stinging the senses like a wake-up call from another world. The recruits leaned out the windows, but it wasn't just the sudden light—it was the view.
The ocean.
Waves rolled in slow, steady patterns, crashing gently onto the shoreline like they had for a thousand years. The water was clear, a soft blue that shimmered orange beneath the setting sun.
The horizon burned with a palette of fire and rose, as if the sun were lowering itself into the sea's embrace.
Theo couldn't tear his eyes away. He gripped the window frame, watching the colors shift, his heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of the waves.
He'd never seen the ocean before—not this close, not like this. It looked like freedom.
Ahead, nestled beyond the beach, a coastal town emerged from the cliffs and palms. Sun-bleached stone and pale wood buildings peeked out from behind natural hills, their rooftops catching the last light of day.
It looked peaceful. Quiet. Almost unreal.
"We're here!" Nozomu's voice rang out from the lead carriage, cutting through the awe.
The convoy approached a grand gate set into the cliffside, flanked by two watchtowers. Atop one of them, two soldiers in forest-green jackets and khaki slacks lounged at a small table.
"Hit me," one of them slurred, holding up a bottle of something strong before unscrewing the cap and taking a long swig.
His eyes were glassy.
"Are you sure about that?" the other asked, taking the bottle. "You lose again; I get half of your lunch."
"Too bad I'ma win," the first soldier muttered, flipping over a playing card.
"Look at that! Twenty-one, baby!" he whooped, slamming his fist on the table as the other groaned and looked away, only to freeze.
"…Hey. You see that?"
The other soldier burped, grabbing back the bottle. "See what? Just pay u-up already—"
"No, dumbass! Look!"
Three carriages were approaching fast. Too fast. The second soldier's eyes widened, the sight damn near sobering him up.
"The Commander's back!"
The two scrambled to hide cards and bottles across the watchtower. Chairs toppled. Boots thudded. They were mid-panic when the air shifted.
"Yo."
The voice dropped like a hammer behind them. Cold. Flat. Unmistakably dangerous.
They turned, slowly.
Nozomu hovered at the tower's edge, arms crossed, coat rippling faintly in the breeze. His gaze was razor-sharp, honed with disappointment.
"Why haven't you opened the gates yet?" he asked, tone as icy as the ocean wind cutting across the ledge.
"C-Commander Nozomu! You're back—earlier than expected, sir!" one stammered, nearly choking on his words.
"No," Nozomu said. "I'm late."
He floated forward, landing silently on the floor. "Just open the gates."
"Y-Yes, sir!" the other blurted, fumbling toward the control lever.
"And hand it over."
One of them froze. "…Hand over what?"
Nozomu extended his hand, palm open.
Realization hit.
"Oh. The bottle?" one soldier offered with a sheepish grin, producing it from behind his back. "Didn't take you for a drinker, sir."
"Hope you like whiskey," the other added nervously, rubbing his hands together.
Nozomu took the bottle, turned it in his hand once, and without a word, he let it drop from the watchtower.
The soldiers flinched.
"I need both of you sober," Nozomu said, voice calm but slicing like steel. "You're not just guarding a gate. You're guarding lives."
He turned to the ledge, eyes fixed on the horizon beyond the town.
The soldiers stood stiff, unsure if they were still breathing.
"…Commander?" one finally said, quietly.
Nozomu didn't look back. "What?"
"I—I mean… with the Forest of Twist and Turns. No one can find this place. What do we really have to worry about?"
"Yeah," the other chimed in, less certain. "No one makes it through without a Guide. Right?"
A sharp wind rose up the tower again, tugging at their uniforms.
Nozomu slowly turned. His presence shifted—heavier now. Centered like a storm.
"You think being hidden makes us safe?"
He stepped toward them. The wind followed, whipping harder with each step.
"Imagine if the opposition, the Mad King, acquired his own Guide. Imagine he and his men marched right through your 'safety' of the forest. What happens then?"
The soldiers said nothing.
One of them swallowed hard, voice barely a whisper. "We'd be open to invasion…"
"Correct," Nozomu said.
"But… what are the chances of that happening?" the second soldier dared to ask.
"Who knows... But that does not grant us the luxury of complacency. Do not disappoint me again."
The wind stilled, just like that. Nozomu just looked at them. And the silence said everything.
Then, without another word, he turned and stepped off the ledge, descending to the carriages below as the gates creaked open.