Perhaps most unknown was his origin, rather than his exact description. A strange man, in a strange garb, with strange ideas. This is a combination of unorthodoxy that nobody wants, yet somehow finds themselves deeply intrigued by. Indeed, his grip was mysteriously strong - enough so to manipulate powerful people to do powerful things. Slowly, new followers began to appear from among both outsiders and the people, behind him growing an army without any fair comparison. Day by day, the influence of this newcomer grew, only to expand into something monstrous and unstoppable. This is the story of the reborn Renat Gavriel, and how he created a world by destroying two.

•  •  •

Trees. Thick underbrush all around. 

He opened his eyes screaming and sitting in mid-air. Falling to the ground, the wanderer collapsed, unmoving but shivering.

What happened? Where is this? Just a moment ago he had been-

The wanderer slowly began to sit up, frantically looking at his surroundings. Indeed, little else appeared before him than what appeared to be a forest. Though not one he had any memory or intention of travelling to.

“...what?”
He stood up, heart racing and panting. 

His eyes had adjusted somewhat, the only sunlight visible being strands that cut through the many immense pine trees above him. Still shaking, he looked himself over; covered in sweat and shivering, but surprisingly intact. Looking around the forest, he saw nothing in any direction but thick pine tree trunks and unremarkable undergrowth.

He laid there for a moment, simply taking in his surroundings. Questions circled in his head, as well as thoughtless thoughts of unseen dangers. 

Slowly but surely, he moved his hands onto the ground and stood up. Eventually, the wanderer stepped forward, with years-old pinecones and dusty, brown pine needles crunching beneath his boots.

Another step.

Nothing threatening, nor in any way unexpected.

The wanderer continued to walk, hearing only the sounds of his boots and wildlife, and walking in no particular direction.

He started to become more confused than terrified.  

‘If this is the afterlife’, he thought, ‘I’d almost be let down.’

After a moment or so, he found it may be wise to actually establish his orientation. A small patch of grass without tree cover provided him the ability to do so; using the sun, he decided to walk west, for the lack of any alternatives. 

As it would turn out, several days later, this was not a good move.

•  •  •

Days. Days of trees and nothing else.

The wanderer stopped at a small, clear creek for water. Kneeling down on damp riverbed moss, his already-filthied self managed to get even muddier; it didn’t matter. Mindlessly scooping water to his mouth, he wondered how long he’d really been walking.

Had it been days? Or weeks? 

Slowly but surely, he rose again, slightly hungry but nonetheless tired and lost above all.

The apparently uninhabited forest he was seemingly trapped in, consisting of a strange mix of pines and unfamiliar fruit-bearing trees, was rich with natural resources and wildlife. Not once had he struggled to find food or water; the slightly sweet fruits, disinterested squirrels, and crystalline water kept him in good physical condition.

Mentally, however, this was less the case.

The question of where, exactly, he had found himself had been left unanswered. Several times, he had climbed to near-treetops in order to gauge where the nearest civilization may be. Beyond distant mountain ranges apparently surrounding him, no cities or highways made themselves known. Nor had he seen a single aircraft. 

Where could this even be? If not for the lack of alternatives, he kept marching forward.

•  •  •

“SAAaaarRRRaaaa! Where even aaarreee weeee?” Asked a young woman, slowly losing her mind.

Sara, the woman sitting beside her, was well into her nap when this was asked, and nodded awake. “Uhh huh? Where did we what?”

“Mmmh. I guess you wouldn’t know anyways.”

The motorized carriage the two were riding in jumped about on the rocky old gravel road they were going on. Elia, the more distressed of the two, looked out a window and into the world - which, as it was now, and had been for many hours beforehand, an endless assortment of old-growth trees. The other side managed to be even less interesting, consisting of a steep, white cliffside. 

Elia looked forward, towards their chauffeur. “Hey, mister coachman, how long do we have until we’ve arrived?”

He glanced back; Elia, or, to him, the more annoying one, was nonetheless a beautiful young woman, with flowing blonde hair and intriguing complementary scarlet eyes. Her overall appearance was of a young girl, being something over three cubits in height; a deceiving sight though, given her age was more than his own. She sometimes acted like she appeared, however, much unlike her adjacent.

Sara, who was already falling back asleep, was evidently the elder of the two. Looking somewhat older, perhaps just under three and a half cubits in height, with short, grey hair and piercingly red eyes, she had previously clearly shown herself to be a lady of aristocratic upbringing and high education to him.

“Well, ma’am, from ‘ere we oughtta be ‘round, ah, 2 or so hours…”
Elia smiled.
“...’til we reach the edge of the woods.”
Elia was no longer smiling.
“From there we should be- WOAH!”

The chauffeur immediately stopped the car as a grizzly-looking man stumbled out of the forest and in front of the automobile. Sara was thrown forward and jolted awake, while Elia eep’d as she too smashed into the seats in front of her. 

In a tongue foreign to the driver, the wanderer asked for help.