Okay... in terms of dumb ideas, this one takes the gold medal.
I woke up falling from the sky. Literally. A flash of light, a vertigo of space-time, and bam — me, Edward Highland, 17 years old, freshly telekinetic and even more freshly exiled from the Chronicle universe, found myself in free fall into a forest that seemed sponsored by darkness itself.
I didn't even have time to say "Ouch" before I was already half-dead from exhaustion.
My landing shattered a tree trunk. Yes, a whole trunk. I guess it's flattering to have so much mental strength I can crash like a meteor… except I sprained my wrist, and coughed up my lungs for five minutes.
And then I heard the howls.
Not normal wolves. Twisted things. Deep. Wet. Like a hyena had fused with a big cat and decided to go vegetarian — except it had never really stopped eating people. That kind of howl.
Wargs. Faster than motocross bikes. Bigger than lions. And hungrier than a teenager at the end of Ramadan.
I started running. Because of course, I had landed right next to their hunting grounds. Lucky me.
I stumbled through the forest, branches whipping my face, roots trying to snap my neck. My legs burned, so did my lungs. At one point, I slipped in a mud puddle and got back up covered in a mix of dirt, dried blood (not all mine), and leaves.
"Fantastic…" I groaned, spitting out foam.
I did try to push the wargs back with my powers. I even managed to fling two of them against trees. But every time I thought I was rid of them, more showed up. Like cockroaches. XXL version.
Eventually, my mental energy gave out. Using telekinesis is like doing math while running a marathon. You can do it… until your brain decides to go on strike.
And guess what? Mine had already turned in its notice.
When I finally saw the edge of the forest, I thought I was hallucinating. In front of me, a plain. Wide, open, covered in tall grass. Not the best place to hide, but at least I wouldn't trip on another root.
I kept running. My shoes had turned to shreds, leaving my feet exposed. Every step made me wince, but I didn't dare slow down.
And then — of course — a blinding pain shot through my back.
I thought I'd been shot. But no. It was a spear. A BIG spear. Thrown by a beefy arm. And if I'd been half a second slower, I'd have ended up as a human kebab.
Reflex. Telekinesis.
I raised my hand, triggered a mental wave. The air vibrated around me. The grass flattened like a helicopter had just landed. The spear stopped dead and was knocked aside. And me? I buckled.
I collapsed in the grass, breathless. My nose was bleeding. My head echoed like a drum.
I wanted to sleep. Sleep for a hundred years. Wake up in a soft bed with a pizza nearby and not a single warg within ten kilometers.
But no. Because that's when they arrived.
First, growls. Then footsteps. And finally… them.
Shadows. Dozens. No — hundreds. Figures with yellow eyes, thick arms, gray skin, filthy and covered in scars. Orcs. Because of course, if I escape from wargs, I have to run straight into orcs right after. Makes sense.
Their leader stepped forward. Ten feet tall. Mounted on a massive, drooling black warg that looked at me like I was a cheeseburger fallen from the sky. The chief had one arm replaced with a blade. A real one. Not some sleek prosthetic. Just a chunk of rusty metal strapped to a stump. His other arm held a hammer big enough to crush a car.
He stared at me. Slowly. Long and hard.
And me?
I got back on my feet. Trembling. Sweating. But standing.
I drew a crude sword — something I'd picked up off a dead orc in the forest. Not very balanced. A bit rusty. But it would do.
I looked him straight in the eyes. Pointed a finger at my chest, then at him.
"Come and get me."
He smiled. I think. Hard to tell with a jaw that wide.
He jumped off his warg, raising a cloud of dust. His hammer slammed into the ground with a dull thud. The grass flattened around him.
"KROU-HA!" he roared.
"KROU-HA!" the orcs answered in unison, raising their weapons.
My heart was pounding like crazy. I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on the sword.
If I was going to die here… at least I'd do it standing. And maybe, just maybe, I'd take that monster with me.
Telperion — the moon-tree — finally rose into the sky. Its silver light bathed the plain. The orcs howled again.
And me?
I was ready.