The night hung heavy, thick with humidity, as if the very air was conspiring against Crystal. The forest whispered eerie secrets in the dark, and the baby—cold, tired, and most likely wondering what kind of cosmic joke this was—seemed to add to the atmosphere. Crystal, exhausted after what felt like an eternity of using her water-based divine arts to heal both her wounds and the baby's, struggled forward like a bedraggled, slightly supernatural, and very tired traveler.
She needed food. Preferably something not trying to eat her. Of course, hunting was not her forte, so she set her sights on the lowly art of foraging. After what seemed like a fruitless (pun intended) search, she finally stumbled upon a cluster of berries and wild produce that would have probably made her grandmother proud.
With the delicacy of a tightrope walker on a windy day, she began testing the berries for toxicity using her divine arts. She trembled, praying none of these little fruits would decide to poison her into oblivion. It was slow, painstaking, and stressful work, but there was no room for mistakes—especially not for her or for the baby, who, for all she knew, was developing a strong attachment to her survival.
Finally, victory. A decent stash of edible fruit. Crisis averted, hunger sated, and now she could rest—well, try to. The night was long, cold, and cruel. But, thanks to her maternal instincts and a bit of magic, she managed to bundle herself and the baby together as the rainstorm the baby had so thoughtfully summoned began to ease. It was a rough night, but sunrise was on the horizon—literally, since the night had felt about as long as a century.
And when the sun finally peaked over the horizon, Crystal's eyes sparkled with a level of relief that would have made any creature of the night jealous. Freedom. Or, at least, the hope of freedom.
Meanwhile, Gene—now living as Ray, but let's just call him Ray to keep this coherent—had been riding an emotional rollercoaster that would make even the most seasoned thrill-seeker wince. His first reaction upon realizing he was not only stuck in some wild forest but also thrust into a world filled with magic was something akin to, "No way. This is too bizarre." And magic? Ha. The very concept was laughable—until he witnessed fire being conjured by a word, healing spells that made his wounds vanish, and a whole lot of other mystical nonsense that flipped his worldview upside down.
And then there was Liza, his AI, who was now apparently stuck inside his brain. She'd informed him of some mysterious new energy called "mana," which was as vague as it was powerful. Still, with her guidance, Gene—sorry, Ray—managed to channel this energy into something that looked suspiciously like an epic magical feat. Too bad he was unconscious when it happened. He had no idea what he'd actually done, but the aftermath was real. Magic was real. And with it, the possibilities were endless. Sure, he was stuck in medieval times with no Wi-Fi, but he might be able to build a tech empire of magic. Or, you know, just survive the bloodthirsty wolves.
Crystal and Ray—two souls wandering hopelessly in the woods like some sort of bad buddy comedy—had been pushing through dense trees for what felt like eons. They were both in desperate search of an exit but only seemed to be sinking deeper into the labyrinth of foliage, like rats caught in an ever-expanding maze.
And then, of course, they wandered into wolf territory. Because that was definitely on the checklist of things they needed right now.
Spirit wolves. A lovely species, really—if you like your wolves shimmering with a faint glow and traveling in packs. Alone, they were manageable, but in a group? Well, it was less "manageable" and more "survival of the fittest." And guess who wasn't feeling particularly fit?
The first growl sent Crystal's heart racing. She looked around, already knowing this wasn't going to end well. Sure enough, five spirit wolves emerged from the forest, glowing eyes locked on her and the baby. They circled slowly, like something out of a really bad horror movie.
Crystal tried to back away without making any noise. But the damp leaves were not in on her plan. Every step sounded like a drumbeat leading them to her doom.
One wolf, evidently the most forward-thinking of the group, snapped its jaws and moved closer, gleaming teeth reflecting the faint moonlight. Crystal tightened her grip on the baby, feeling the fear radiate off him, but there was no time for comfort. Not now. She had to keep running.
And run she did. Her legs pumped like a machine, each stride trying to put more distance between her and the wolves that were beginning to close in. The baby let out a breath, each exhale a tiny hurricane of air. Crystal wasn't sure what was worse—the wolves or the fact that she wasn't sure how much more her body could take.
Then, of course, one wolf lunged and nearly bit her heel off. She swerved, tripping over a root like a true forest novice. She hit the ground, knees screaming in protest, but there was no time for pain. Scrambling to her feet, she grabbed a stick and prepared to fight back.
And fight back she did—sort of.
Crystal chanted, her hand held out toward the alpha wolf, just as its jaws closed around her arm. Pain seared through her, but she gritted her teeth and focused. With a surge of power, she froze its mouth with a hasty ice spell. The wolf recoiled, shaking off the ice like a wet dog—but now it was slow and hurt. And that, for a moment, gave her the edge she needed.
But then, just as things were looking particularly grim, a booming roar shattered the tension. A knight. Yes, of course, a knight. Because when you're about to be torn apart by wolves, the universe sends a man in shining armor to save you. He strode into the clearing with the elegance of someone who'd walked into far too many "damsel in distress" scenarios.
The wolves hesitated, their snarling bravado faltering in the presence of this shining symbol of "Try me, and see what happens." The stranger moved with a level of swagger that made it clear he wasn't here to ask for directions. Each step crunched underfoot like nature itself had decided to amplify his entrance. Resting casually on his shoulder was a sword so massive and polished it could've doubled as a carnival mirror. Its edge glinted with an ethereal light, as if to say, I'm not compensating; I'm just this good.
"Step away," the knight commanded, his voice booming with the kind of authority that could make even the most defiant teenager reconsider their life choices.
The alpha wolf, clearly not a fan of unsolicited advice, snarled and launched itself at the knight, teeth aimed directly for his throat. Bad move. With the kind of efficiency that screamed first in his class at Hero Academy, the knight swung his blade. It hummed ominously, slicing through the wolf in one impossibly clean stroke. The creature didn't even get the satisfaction of a dramatic death scene; it dissolved into faint threads of light, leaving behind nothing but regrets.
The remaining wolves erupted in a chorus of panicked howls. Did they run? No, of course not. It's not like they were capable of learning from others' mistakes. But before they could lunge, the knight surged forward. His movements were unnervingly fast for someone dressed like he had just escaped from an armored tank convention.
His sword cut through the pack with all the mercy of a tax collector on a deadline. One particularly ambitious wolf attempted to leap at his back, presumably thinking it deserved a medal for bravery. The knight spun mid-swing, cleaving it cleanly before it even had time to reconsider its life choices. Another wolf tried to retreat, but the knight stomped the ground with such force that a shockwave of energy rippled out, turning the poor creature into a very brief light show.
Crystal stood frozen, her mind struggling to process the carnage—or perhaps just the sheer audacity of it all. In mere moments, the clearing was silent again, save for the gentle rustling of rain-soaked leaves, which now sounded suspiciously like applause. The knight stood at the center of it all, somehow managing to look pristine despite having just obliterated an entire pack of wolves. His armor gleamed as if it had a personal vendetta against dirt, and his breathing was steady, as though he hadn't just conducted a one-man massacre.
He turned to Crystal, lowering his sword in a way that could only be described as casually majestic. The glow of the weapon dimmed, but his presence still radiated the energy of someone who knew he was the main character in every room. "Are you injured?" he asked, his tone softer now, almost polite—if you ignored the fact that he was still holding a sword the size of a small tree.
Crystal blinked, her mouth suddenly dry. "No… I… I'm fine," she stammered, clutching the baby tighter, as if the infant might spontaneously volunteer to answer for her.
The knight stepped closer, kneeling down to her level. His sheer size made her feel like she was standing next to a monument. "You're lucky I was nearby," he said, his gaze flicking to the baby. His tone suggested that he didn't really believe in luck, only in divine timing—and possibly his own perfection. "A storm summoned by such a young one... Interesting."
Crystal's breath hitched. Excuse me, what now? How could he possibly know that? Before she could string together a coherent question, the knight extended a hand, his gauntlet shining faintly in the dim light. "Come. You won't last long here alone."
She hesitated—briefly, because saying no to this guy felt like it might be hazardous to her health—and placed her trembling hand in his. His grip was firm but oddly reassuring, like a steel trap with good intentions. As he helped her to her feet, the baby muttered softly, drawing the knight's attention. He glanced down at the child and—was that a faint smile? It was hard to tell under the helmet, but the knight radiated the vibe of someone who didn't smile often, and when he did, it was for reasons only he understood.
"We'll talk more once you're safe," he said with the calm authority of someone who made safety seem both inevitable and non-negotiable. "For now, stay close. The forest still has its dangers."
As they began to walk, Crystal couldn't stop herself from stealing glances at the knight. Whoever he was, he had just saved her and the baby from a fate best described as "messy and tragic." For the first time in hours, she felt a tiny spark of hope. That, or she was delirious from shock. Either way, she followed him, clutching the baby like a lifeline, and prayed the knight's shiny armor wasn't just for show.