After an hour of restless tossing and turning in his bed, Trent finally fell into the welcoming darkness of sleep. His mind drifted in between several befuddling dreams before dissolving into a familiar area that felt more real than his usual dreams. He stood up from the ground and looked around to see a multitude of trees that caught the full moon light. Raising his eyebrow, he approached one of the trees and placed his hand upon the trunk. He closed his eyes and opened them again, wondering if it was even possible. There was only one way to find out. With a jump, he ran into the woods at an incredible pace.

The trees passed by his vision in a blur and it was not long before he reached the edge of the woods and halted just before a cliffside. He gasped sharply as he took in the sight that was before him. It was just as he remembered from his childhood. The waterfalls, the castle in the far west bordered by an ocean that sparkled in the moonlight and a few scattered villages throughout the land. In the far distance was the mountain range covered with a fresh layer of snow. "It can't be," he murmured as he brought his hand up to his forehead in disbelief and leaned forward to catch his breath. He sharply rose up again though as the sound of a piercing scream reached his ears. Horror struck, he took off back into the woods in the direction of the scream.

Trent stopped once he spotted the shadows of several figures in the distance. He ducked down and crawled through the underbrush the rest of the way until he was just in view of the figures. Peering around the tree that he was hiding behind, his fears were confirmed. Myra lay on the ground in a fetal position, clutching her stomach and groaning in pain. Standing above her was a tall, bulky iron clad orc who was giving orders to the other two orcs standing around her to pull her up and follow him. She was yanked up mercilessly by the two orcs and had her arm twisted mercilessly by one of them in a show of force. She let out another high pitched scream that caused Trent's blood to boil up in anger. Without thinking he ran out into view yelling out a battle cry and using his full body, struck the orc that had twisted Myra's arm, knocking him to the ground. He quickly whipped back around to face his two other adversaries. The other orc that had a hold of Myra placed both his arms around her and lifted her up before taking off as the other, larger orc slowly approached Trent while unsheathing his sword. Trent gulped and realized that he should have thought his attack through a little more. However any second thoughts he had dissipated the moment he heard Myra desperately screaming his name as she was helplessly carried away.

Scowling, the orc lunged at Trent with his sword. Trent attempted to jump out of the way, but the sword caught on his arm and sliced the upper part open. He cried out at the searing pain that shot up his arm and placed his hand over the open wound, trying to slow the bleeding. The orc moved forward again at Trent, his sword held up ready to strike him down. Behind him Trent saw a figure jump down from the trees and the next thing he knew, the orc was falling forward with an arrow sticking out from his neck. The figure moved out from his hiding spot and Trent saw that it was a young man with jet black hair, narrow eyes, and a tan complexion.

The man ripped off a piece of his tunic and wrapped it around Trent's wound. Trent let out a grunt from the pain before saying, "Thank you."

"No time," responded the man as he tied off the dressing. "We have to catch up to Myra or else all will be lost." The two men sprinted in the direction of where the orc had carried Myra off. They quickened their speed when they heard deep voiced shouts. Reaching the edge of the forest that dipped down into an expansive valley, they abruptly stopped when their eyes met the scene that was underway.

Myra lay limply on the ground as the orc swatted away fruitlessly at the dozens of wood nymphs that attacked him from every possible direction. He eventually gave up and ran off into the valley with some of the nymphs in hot pursuit to make sure he did not return. Trent and his companion quickly dashed to Myra's side and knelt down. A nymph slowly flitted above her and cast a small glow about her. Trent reached out and turned Myra over to see that she was still breathing. Her eyes fluttered open and she gave him a small smile once their eyes met. "Trent," she mumbled. "You're here, you're actually here." He nodded as he placed his hand upon her's in a comforting way. She then directed her gaze to the young man that had saved Trent's life not moments before. "We have to stop meeting like this, Brickon," she commented.

Brickon grinned and replied, "Yea, I know. Have to make sure you're safe though." Myra extended out her finger and the nymph that had been flitting about her worriedly landed daintily upon it.

"Thank you, all of you," she softly said to the nymph who bowed graciously before taking off in the night sky to join her brethren.

"That's strange," Brickon murmured as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"What is?" asked Trent.

"I know that those orcs handled you roughly, Myra, but I'm pretty sure they didn't cut you anywhere." Brickon motioned at the various cuts and bruises all along Myra's body, most notably a large bruise upon the left side of her forehead. Trent removed his hand from her's to find it stained in blood from a long laceration at the top of her hand. "Myra, how did you get all these?"

Myra slowly sat up and looked at the different cuts and bruises on herself in surprise. "I…I don't know," she shakily responded. "All I remember was finding myself in the clearing and immediately running because…because…beca-"

"Because you knew that the shadow was going to materialize into those orcs again," Brickon finished for her. Myra nodded despondently then attempted to stand up. She wobbled and fell back, where Trent caught her in his arms. He winced as her weight put strain on his own wound, but he refused to cry out. His sole focus right now was his friend and her well being.

"She can't go on in this condition," Trent stated while looking over at Brickon.

"Myra, why don't you go back to your own world. It'll be safer there," Brickon suggest. Trent lowered her to the ground and watched as Myra closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, concentrating on their world. After a moment, her eyes flashed open in a panic.

"I can't do it! Something's not letting me! I can't get back!" she cried out. Her hands began shaking as the realization that she was stuck in Valaria sunk in. In her childhood, this would have been perfectly fine. However, with the shadow attacking her anytime she so much as entered the world, it was her worst fear come true. Who knew what would happen if she was killed while in Valaria this time.

Trent clasped her hands and carefully pulled her up to her feet. She looked up at him and he gave her an encouraging smile. "We'll figure it out, Myra. I'm sure there's some reason for this that we will figure out the solution to. For now, let's focus on getting you safe." Myra tried to hug him, but instead her body betrayed her again and she slumped down against him. Brickon lifted her up and placed her on his back with ease. "I can carry her myself, you know," Trent said in a stern tone.

Brickon shook his head. "You're fading away. Something is calling you back to your world." No sooner had Brickon said this, Trent's vision fell dark only to be replaced with his mother's panic stricken face.

"Wake up, Trent! Trent!" she half shouted as she shook his shoulder.

Feeling slightly annoyed that she had awakened him during a nice dream, he sat up in his bed and went, "What is it?"

"It's Myra," his mother replied while sitting next to him on the bed. His insides swirled uncomfortably as he figured that what followed could not be good. "She's been in an accident."