Season 1. Chapter 72: Echoing woods [Pre-camp arc]
Chapter 1 – Into the Direction Forest >[pre camp arc]<
The wind whispered like a warning.
A soft rustle through the tall pines of the Direction Forest—the place where paths changed when you blinked. Twisting, ever-moving, the forest was infamous even among seasoned Travelers. But for Rowin Gale, it was prime streaming content.
> "What's up, legends and lurkers, it's ya boy Rowin, back with another live-look into the unknown. Direction Forest: blue-ranked danger, spatial weirdness, possible fairy photobombs—let's roll."
Rowin held his crystalline lens outward, the memory stone glowing faintly as it recorded. His orange hair rustled in the steady breeze. He adjusted his headband and took a step forward.
Behind him, Darion Hollowbrand, nose in his communication stone, was simultaneously screen-filming and tweaking the angle of Rowin's footage.
> "Audio's clean. Angle's a little off. Try not to monologue like you're in a shampoo commercial, yeah?"
> "Whatever, Darion. That's called branding."
To the right, Velindra Mirethorn was dead silent. She hadn't spoken once since they entered the outer forest ring, only raised her hand occasionally to halt them. Each time, she'd unsheathe a short black-bladed dagger and silently slice through thick vines or strange roots that seemed to shift positions when no one looked.
The trees leaned slightly, but unnaturally—like they were eavesdropping. The shadows cast didn't match the sun's angle.
Wind rolled through, whispering between the branches in a language not quite real.
> "This forest gives me major nope vibes," Rowin muttered under his breath, half to his audience and half to himself.
Suddenly, Bigfoot, walking behind Darion, stopped. The huge brown-furred creature tilted his head and gave a low grunt. His wide nostrils flared. Something was off.
Velindra held up two fingers and then pointed to the moss on the ground—it had shifted direction. The path behind them had changed.
They were already inside the warping zone.
> "Rowin," Velindra said, her voice hushed but sharp like a needle, "stop talking. Focus."
> "Right. Stealth mode. Got it," Rowin whispered, failing to realize he was still recording.
Up in the canopy—unseen—tiny points of light drifted between branches like floating fireflies, giggling faintly in strange lilting voices. The fairies were watching, curious. They didn't like technology. They didn't like noise. But they liked games.
> "Guys," Darion said suddenly, staring at his phone. "My map's glitching. Look at this."
The screen was spazzing, directions twisting and reversing, paths looping into themselves.
> "They're watching," Velindra said. "They always watch."
> "Who?" Rowin asked.
> "Fairies," she replied. "We're already part of the maze now."
The air grew cooler. The wind changed direction again.
> "Still no sign of Oliver or the others," Darion muttered.
Bigfoot grunted once more—he didn't like this place. The trees whispered again.
Then the path they were on... wasn't there anymore.
They turned to look behind them and found a wall of thick trees instead of open trail. Darion blinked. Rowin lifted his camera.
The forest had shifted again.
And this was only the beginning.
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Chapter 2 – The Girl in Blue
The winds of the Direction Forest twisted again, curling around the trees in long gusts that carried whispers and illusion. The team of rouges crept forward, cautious and sharp-eyed.
Rowin Gale pulled out his sleek bronze dagger, a default for most Rouge-Class Travelers—small, fast, lethal. His orange hoodie flapped slightly as he adjusted his stance.
Beside him, Velindra Mirethorn was already ahead, both daggers in hand—one black like onyx, the other silver etched with glowing green runes. Her black mask shadowed her face, but her piercing green irises, a rare detection trait, shimmered faintly—like scanning lenses beneath a veil of calm.
Bigfoot's heavy steps paused. He grunted, low and uncertain.
Then the wind stilled.
Out from the warped path stepped a little girl.
She couldn't have been more than ten—pale skin, white locks tied in loose ribbons, and wearing modern blue clothing that looked suspiciously clean for a place like this. Her small boots were unscuffed. Her timid face blinked up at the group.
> "U-Um…" she stammered, "I got lost. I'm… not supposed to be here. I… I don't know where my group is…"
Rowin's dagger lowered instinctively. The stream lens flickered slightly.
> "A kid?" Rowin muttered. "This is gold. Lost-child content. Maximum views."
He stepped forward, lowering his voice, activating his camera smile.
> "Hey there. You alright? We can help you get back to your group."
But Velindra didn't move. Her eyes narrowed sharply. The irises flashed.
A jolt of unnatural energy pulsed like an invisible string. Her senses screamed.
> That's not a Traveler.
With no hesitation, she threw her black dagger.
> "Velindra, what the hell?!" Darion shouted.
The girl stumbled back in a blur—far faster than a normal child—and vanished into the trees. Bigfoot let out a warning growl.
Velindra dashed forward but saw only trailing wisps of blue light.
> "She's gone," she said, daggers still out.
> "You almost stabbed a kid!" Rowin shouted. "What are you—?!"
> "That wasn't a kid," Velindra said, deadly calm. "It wasn't even human. Illusion magic masked by modern mimicry. I sensed pure unbound magical essence. That was a fairy in disguise."
Darion stared, breathing heavily. Rowin looked stunned.
---
Up in the trees, hidden among leaves the color of twilight and stardust, the girl giggled, now back in her true fairy form—wings glimmering like frost, her white locks floating like silk threads.
> "She sensed me…" she whispered to her sisters.
The other fairies hovered behind her, laughing musically.
> "She's fun," one said.
> "Should we play more?" asked another.
The girl smiled, soft and mischievous.
> "Let's see how far they go… before they forget the way back."
They vanished with a flash of shimmering petals, the forest darkening once again.
---
Chapter 3 – The Elderly Illusion
The wind whipped fiercely through the warped trees, scattering leaves and twigs like restless spirits. Rowin's orange headband nearly flew off, but a large, furry hand—Bigfoot's—caught it just in time.
They paused, breathing hard, the tension thick.
Suddenly, from behind a thick trunk, a frail elderly woman emerged. Her silver hair was pinned neatly, and she wore a threadbare shawl over a faded dress. Her eyes searched desperately as she approached.
> "Have you seen my granddaughter?" she asked, voice quavering. "A little girl with white hair, blue clothes... she wandered off this way."
The rouges exchanged uncertain looks.
Velindra's eyes flickered, her detection instincts flaring anew.
This isn't right.
Before anyone could react, Velindra whipped out a dagger and threw it with deadly precision.
> "Wait!" Rowin yelled, pulling his knife out to intercept Velindra's blade midair. Sparks flew as the two weapons clashed, a tense standoff igniting.
Darion, eyes wide, quickly shut down his streaming device.
> "Stream off! Platform guidelines say no killing Travelers during gameplay!" he hissed.
Rowin glared at Velindra, frustration spilling over.
> "Why do you have to ruin every good stream moment with your paranoia?" he snapped.
> "This isn't paranoia," Velindra spat back. "It's survival. That woman is not what she seems."
Without warning, Velindra snapped on her black gloves, stepped forward, and with a swift punch, struck the elderly woman squarely in the cheek.
A sudden burst of shimmering pixie dust exploded into the air, swirling with iridescent colors.
The woman staggered, her face dissolving into a glowing swirl of magic—then a fairy form collapsed to the ground, clutching her now exposed cheeks.
The fairy's eyes flicked upward, rage burning.
> "You caught me..." she hissed, rubbing her bruised cheek. "But this isn't over."
With a flash, the fairy vanished, leaving the group standing silent amidst the whispering trees.
---
Rowin's grip on his knife tightened.
> "Great... just great. Velindra, you really know how to kill a stream."
Velindra, mask tight, stared into the depths of the forest.
> "If only you cared about staying alive as much as your views."
The wind howled once more, carrying secrets deep into the warped woods.
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