March 28, 2026 — 1:33 am

Rain scrunched up his eyes and tried to worm his way deeper into the covers. It was way too early to get up in his book. He grumbled in annoyance as something hard pressed into his neck. Still more than half asleep, he idly wondered what the offending object was. It didn’t feel like anything that was likely to be in his bed. As he became more aware, he quickly noticed that a few things were not quite right with the whole situation.

Blinking open his eyes, he realized several things in short order. First, he wasn’t in his bed. Second, he wasn’t in his apartment. Third, he was dreaming, because there wasn’t a forest anything like this anywhere near the city.

A root? He thought, sitting up and looking at the rough gnarl of wood that he had been using as a pillow. Can’t I dream up a better place to sleep? Also, why am I not awake now, usually once I realize it is a dream I just wake up.

Blearily, Rain examined his surroundings for anything of interest. The forest looked, well, it looked like a forest. Trees, rocks, grass, birds chirping, pretty standard stuff. No giant mushrooms or smoking caterpillars to prove the unreality of the situation.

Yup, I’m in a forest. Just go with it I guess. Hey, if I’m dreaming, does that mean I can control things?

Climbing to his feet and wincing at the crick in his neck, Rain looked around, then up. Raising his hands, he tried as hard as he could to will himself into the air.

Come on! Fly! Up! Happy Thoughts!

Seeing that he was going nowhere, Rain closed his eyes and tried to believe, actually believe, that he could fly. He felt a soft breeze brush past his face and he excitedly opened his eyes.

Damn it!

He was still standing where he started, holding his hands up to the sky in a superhero pose but looking more like an escapee from an asylum. His short brown hair was matted and sticking up in the back where his head had been lying against his oaken pillow. It was also a bit dirty and dusty, but thankfully free from twigs and leaves. He shivered as the breeze which had fooled him into thinking he had achieved takeoff cut through his pajamas. Looking down and sighing, he noticed a squirrel watching him from a stump. It chittered at his sudden movement.

“Yeah, yeah, keep laughing,” he said, glaring at the squirrel. The squirrel chittered again, then jumped across to a tree and climbed its way up and around the back of the trunk before re-emerging on top of a branch. Rain idly watched the squirrel and rubbed his arms as he tried to come to grips with his situation.

OK, so not a dream. I’m cold, my neck hurts, the squirrel is mocking me, and I can’t fly. Yeah, not my idea of a fun lucid dream. So, if I’m not dreaming, and I’m not in my house, then how the hell did I get here? I went to bed, fell asleep and then…someone broke into my apartment, drugged me, dragged me down three flights of stairs, shoved me into a car, drove hundreds of kilometers, dumped me in a forest, then peaced out? Yeah, don’t think so. Though as pranks go, absolutely legendary.

…

“Hello?”

Obviously, the squirrel didn’t answer. Rain shivered again; it wasn’t that cold, but the air did have a definite chill. A white undershirt with a pair of plaid cotton pajama pants wasn’t exactly the ideal outfit for traipsing around an old-growth forest.

Right, so not dreaming, not being punked, what does that leave? Insane? Abducted by aliens? Trapped in VR? Wait, no, VR sucks, we don’t have tech like that. If we did, I wouldn’t be working construction, we would probably have robots doing it or something.

“Summoned! To another world!” Rain shouted. The squirrel gave him a contemptuous look, then jumped to another tree to get away from the crazy person.

Yeah right. Shit, if I am being punked, I’ll never live that down. Smile for the camera!

Rain looked around. There wasn’t much underbrush; there was nothing but trees and the odd rock in every direction. No sign of civilization, people, or a camera crew. Other than the quiet chirping of birds, there was no sound of traffic nor murmur of the city. There was no smog in the air nor glare of streetlights. There was only wild, untamed nature lit by the rays of the early morning sun.

…

“Shit.”

Rain sat down hard, leaning against the tree whose roots he had been using as a pillow. He sat there for several minutes, trying to work through the reality of his new situation. As his thoughts looped back on themselves, he started to get more and more concerned.

This wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t going to wake up. Regardless of how he had gotten there, he was alone, in the middle of a forest, in his pajamas. He sat under the tree, rubbing his arms against the chill as the sounds of the forest washed over him. After what seemed like hours, but in reality was only ten minutes, he climbed back to his feet.

OK, panic later. Shelter, water, food, and in that order.

Having nothing to take with him, Rain looked around, picked a direction, and started walking. Looking at the sun, he decided on south and kept it to his left as he picked his way through the trees. Luckily, the ground was clear and loamy, so his lack of shoes was an annoyance and not any real impediment.

Rain pondered his situation as he walked, scanning the forest for anything that looked like a sheltered cluster of trees, a cave, or maybe a motel. He continued like this for a few hours, stopping occasionally to lean against a tree and panic a bit. He would then move on only to stop and cower at the cry of some terrifying animal.

The cry had repeated several times. In the end, it turned out to have been a honey badger. Luckily, it didn’t give a shit about him and let him pass. Rain was starting to get tired and a bit thirsty when he noticed that the trees were thinning out ahead. He picked up his pace and broke through onto a dirt road cutting through the forest.

He sank to his knees and closed his eyes. Roads meant civilization. And civilization meant that a motel was looking a bit more likely than a cave after all.

Rain rested for a few minutes before clambering back to his feet and looking down the road. He couldn’t see anything in either direction. Shrugging, he turned left and started walking.

Left is right! Onwards! Rain thought to himself, trying to stay positive.

He hadn’t been walking for more than fifteen minutes or so before he heard something in the distance. There was a curve in the road ahead, so he couldn’t see the source, but he heard what sounded like a person whistling. Rain started jogging toward the sound, trying to ignore the pain in his feet from his long journey through the wilderness. As he got closer, he heard an angry shout, and the whistling cut off. That was followed by the sound of voices arguing with each other, but he couldn’t make out the words, though he could hear them clearly.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

What language is that? It doesn’t sound like anything I’ve ever heard…

He stopped suddenly as a figure rounded the bend. The man was looking over his shoulder, shouting at someone, presumably the whistler. He was wearing a brown shirt and brown pants and looked a bit rough, but otherwise normal enough other than the bow and quiver of arrows. That was a bit odd.

Rain stayed quiet, not wanting to surprise the man by hailing him. He waited for him to return his eyes to the road instead. When the man did turn back, he immediately spotted Rain and came to a sudden stop. He said something loudly to his companions, who followed quickly around the bend at his call.

The man drew an arrow and nocked it, but didn’t raise his bow. Stopping at least 20 meters from Rain, he raised his voice and asked something that sounded like a question. His three companions stood behind him, but Rain couldn’t take his eyes off the bow.

“Um, hello?” Rain said.

The man’s face furrowed in confusion. Looking at a red-haired man to his left, who Rain noted was wearing a brown bathrobe, he said something in the same unintelligible language. The other man simply shrugged.