This was one of many nights. One of many nights where being cloaked in darkness was both a curse and a blessing. During any normal operation, the darkness and silence of the night was something to be appreciated. Mortars, artillery, gunfire, and vehicle engines were some of the many artificial noises that kept men awake during trying times.

Yet the aspects of modern life, let alone modern warfare, were absent in this world, not even the familiar chirps of birds, cicadas, or grasshoppers existed.

A small crackle came from a dying fire. Several rocks were strung around a small collection of ash, embers and burnt sticks. Surrounding the fire, the only ones awake was Sergeant Randall, Lieutenant Patterson, and Captain Thompson. Each of them was awake as they were the last watch for the night.

Randall’s eyelids were heavy as he kept himself aware and awake by munching on a small granola bar, he had stashed away in on of his pouches adorning his plate carrier. Patterson was silent as he laid against a tree keeping his carbine between his legs, and Thompson spoke softly while minding his own time by running an ammo check.

“You all have done an outstanding job.” He said tiredly, “I want to thank the both of you personally for keeping it together during this shit show.”

“No problem Captain.” Patterson said with a stifled yawn.

“I mean it.” Thompson said with a groan as he reached for his now cold MRE, “I don’t even think those SERE guys could handle what we’re going through.” He said while shoving a spoon full of corn into his mouth, “Like I mentioned earlier, we’re not Green Berets. Our priority should be getting back to Earth.”

Shuffling in his seat, Randall sat himself up. “With all due respect sir, I don’t think that is even an option. These people-mages, they won’t let us go. We prove to much of a liability to work on our own, but we are a huge political and military resource to pressure other nations.”

“What are you saying Mike?” Patterson questioned.

“Well-if we aren’t disposed off after we kill some ‘demon’ lord or whatever, they will attempt to keep us by any means.”

Not knowing what to say next, the three fell back into silence with Thompson complaining about not having a cigarette every fifteen minutes.

Looking around the almost dead forest, a thought came to Mike’s mind. Unlike during daylight hours, what was theorized to be elemental orbs by Green were not present. The notion and belief that the orbs relied on natural light to move around was put to rest, as the moonlight did not carry the orbs, and instead they simple disappeared.

Albeit being an eerie occurrence along with the already near-silent forest, something caught Mike’s attention as he fought the heavy sensation on his eyelids. A small line of what looked to be ants crawled up a tree under the azure moonlight. Noticing this, his eyes snapped open as he scanned the rest of the forest.

Evergreen and pine trees, ants, an almost same day-night cycle, and similar flora.

Mike needed to get his mind checked at the nearest physiatrist, yet that would be a problem to be addressed another day.

“You remember the operation in Africa? There was something I saw that didn’t go on record.” Patterson suddenly spoke up bringing an unknown tension over the three. “It was back when we were working with Force Recon.” He said with a meek voice, “It was in South Sudan.”

“Right-you and fifteen others were separated from us in the large sandstorm that came from Sudan. Yeah, I remember that.” Thompson said apprehensively, “What happened?”

“There was fifteen of us. Five returned, one of them being me.” Patterson lowered his head into both of his arms as he attempted to comfort himself. “We weren’t ambushed by insurgents nor was it a friendly fire incident between us and the TIPA; what killed us was something we never saw coming, all I can remember were the Marines falling over dead.”

“Chemical weapons?” Mike asked sharing a confused look with the captain.

“No.” Patterson sounded resigned as he rose from his arms, a stray ray of moonlight kissed his face, “There were no chemical weapons. MPs and CBRN specialists confirmed that much.” His voice lowered at the last three words. His face looked pale as he recalled whatever nightmares plagued his mind. Unbeknownst to the three wide awake, the small amount of chatter had awoken the rest, yet they did not move and only listened.

“I don’t know how or why I was cleared for duty, but it seemed that they wanted to keep me quiet about what happened.” Patterson seemed resigned as he slumped further into his plate carrier, “I’m about to breach every damn protocol, but I simply couldn’t give two fucks at this point; that night there was a group of shadows within he sandstorm and they killed the three other Rangers and seven Marines.”

Falling back against the tree behind him, Mike blinked several times as he looked at the tree canopy above that was highlighted under the moonlight. The story told was not a story, it was a testimony. To what or whom Patterson wanted the testimony to reach was unknown, but every word he spoke held weight behind it.

During the campaign in Africa, over 150 Marines went MIA, and over 300 of the combined coalition armed forces were killed in action by unknown means. Many claimed it to be the work of mutiny, and how many disgruntled soldiers and Marines fragged their commanding officers and NCOs, yet all such cases were properly prosecuted by the Department of Defense.

Perhaps this was why the TIPA stood against NATO, there was something to hide. What was it? And why? No one knew, but there was a chance that the words Lieutenant Patterson had spoke could shed light to what happened on the ground.

“We should get going.”

Coming from nowhere a flood of noise entered the forest. The moon had begun to set in the forest-covered horizon. Forcing the others out of their positions of rest, their movements were highlighted with brilliant blues, hazing reds, and shining gold hues as the elemental orbs began to sprout from both the ground and trees.

All Mike could do was stare at the colors through his tired eyes. Several tears escaped as he stifled out a long yawn that he had forced back. His ears and head ached from the constant pressure applied by his gear, yet he chose not to take them off, due to wanting to secure his own safety.

PFC Simon kicked dirt over the remaining embers of the fire that died out minutes earlier, and Green collected the trash that was left and stuffed into the bag he had for collecting the brass cartridges that were fired from his carbine.

“We still have another day to get out of this damn forest, so take your time Captain.” Patterson said confidently as he stood up with the help of Malkovich’s hand. “Let’s not get killed before we find anything to shoot.”

What was left of the moonlight shined gently down on the barren pathway the Ranger carved out in the now-alive forest. A gently rain, a gentle mist fell down from whatever heaven high above the trees. The sound of droplets pattered the forest in a soft white noise, and it wasn’t long before a light fog descended. Whispers of the wind sang out in between the flora and was only momentarily interrupted by the footsteps against the moist ground.

Though life had returned to the forest, and eerie silence occasionally broke through the wind’s song. Silence gave way to the men walking notable pathways that were carved by soldiers before their time, and under the cover of the trees’ darkness, they traversed these paths shuffling together.

Beyond the sounds of the operators moving through the forest, the trees, bushes, grass, and leaves shuffled in the calm breeze, with several leaves coming loose and getting caught in the wind. Sergeant Randall led the group as he bushed several bush out of their current heading. He grew annoyed as several branches smacked his side when he let go, but he couldn’t complain as it wasn’t as intense as his time in Ranger School.

He took a deep breath as a small bead of sweat ran down the side of his head. The moist air had turned humid as the first rays of sunlight broke through the forest. Thankfully, Corporal Richard who was right behind him, called out a clearing in the trees no less than 300 meters from their current position.

Picking up the pace, a small smile overtook Mike’s face. He was invertedly looking forward calling Captain Orwell’s bluff and challenge, yet he and the others would have to exit alive to prove their points. Even the usually stoic and quiet Malkovich seemed to be excited to exit the forest which was a surprise to those not familiar with him.

Mike’s heart pumped at a steady tempo as the sound of his and his brothers’ boots slammed into the ground. The sun began to shimmer on a large body of water and the droplets that had been spread across the flora all over the forest. Fair winds provided a swift-soft breeze, and birds of unknown origin began sing like a choir as the men’s sporadic movements awakened them.

Breaking through the last set of trees, the seven ran into the clear-cut fields. Before them was a small camp where a collection of knights and solders from the kingdom waited, and at the center of the main wooden gate, Princess Leccamaradel and Captain Orwell watched the Rangers move in a semi-professional line formation.

Gently opening her eyes, Lecca stood firm in the golden fields around her. She felt almost weightless as her silver hair fluttered in the wind and shimmered in the sun. Her loose brown skirt and white blouse also shifted under the wind.

She gave a soft smile to the men that had just emerged from the forest.

Publicly Available Information: Forest of Lost Spirits:

Used as a training location for the armed forces of the Kingdom of Yondel, the Forest of Lost Spirits is said to host the spirits of many lost loved ones, and ghosts of heroes’ past.

Many believe the elemental orbs found within the forest to be the restless souls of the old ages.