I Woke Up Lost in a Magical Forest and My Only Guide is a Man Forbidden to Love Me

The first thing you registered was the cold. It was a damp, living cold that seeped through the thin cotton of your pajamas, a stark contrast to the familiar warmth of your duvet. Your cheek was pressed against something soft but firm, and the scent that filled your lungs wasn't the clean linen of your bedroom, but the rich, loamy smell of damp earth and decaying leaves.

Your eyes snapped open.

Above you, a canopy of silver-leafed branches intertwined, filtering a pale, milky light that wasn't sunrise or sunset. The air itself seemed to vibrate, a low, resonant hum that you felt more in your bones than you heard with your ears. And beneath that hum, there were whispers—faint, sibilant sounds that brushed against the edge of your hearing, like secrets being passed on a breeze that never touched your skin.

You sat up, your heart beginning a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You were on a bed of thick, green moss in the middle of a forest unlike any you had ever seen. The trees had smooth, white bark that seemed to glow faintly, and the air was thick with the scent of unknown blossoms. You looked down at yourself, at the worn-out tank top and soft cotton shorts you’d gone to bed in. Goosebumps prickled across your bare arms and legs, a reaction to both the chill and the rising tide of confusion.

"Hello?" The word was a fragile thing, swallowed instantly by the immense, humming silence.

Panic, sharp and cold, began to curl in your stomach. This wasn't a dream. The prickle of a dry twig beneath your hand, the way the cold moss clung to your bare feet as you stood—it was all too real. You had to find a road, a house, a person. Any sign of civilization.

Picking a direction at random, you began to walk, pushing aside ferns that left streaks of cool moisture on your skin. The ground was a springy carpet of moss that muffled your footsteps. You moved with a growing sense of urgency, your eyes scanning the strange, luminous woods for any break in the trees. After several minutes, you stumbled into a small clearing and froze.

In the center stood a single, monolithic slab of black stone, smooth and featureless, soaring twice your height. It radiated a subtle warmth and pulsed with the same low hum that filled the forest, a soft light glowing deep within its core. It was a landmark, at least. A strange, unsettling landmark. You noted its position and turned, choosing a new path that led away from it at a sharp angle.

Your breathing grew shallow as you walked faster, the alien beauty of the forest now feeling oppressive, menacing. The whispers seemed to follow you, just out of reach. You scrambled through a thicket of trees with glowing, blue-capped mushrooms clustered at their bases and broke into another clearing.

And stopped. Your blood ran cold.

It was the same clearing. The same monolithic stone stood before you, humming its silent, powerful song. It was impossible. A desperate sob escaped your throat. You turned and ran, heedless of the branches that snagged at your clothes and hair, your bare feet pounding against the soft earth. You ran until your lungs burned, bursting through a final wall of foliage back into a clearing.

The monolith waited.

The cold knot of panic in your stomach tightened into an icy fist. You weren't just lost. The rules didn't apply here. Every path, every desperate attempt to flee, led you back to this one impossible point. You stared at the silent stone, the whispers of the forest closing in around you, and the horrifying truth settled over you. You were trapped in a world that was not your own.

A twig snapped in the treeline to your left. The sound was sharp, deliberate, and entirely different from the ambient noise of the forest. You spun toward it, your body tensing, every muscle coiled to either fight or flee, though you knew the latter was useless.

A man stepped out from between two of the silver-barked trees. He moved with a quiet grace that seemed to belong to the woods, his feet making no sound on the mossy ground. He was tall, dressed in dark, worn leather and simple green wool that blended with the shadows of the forest. His dark hair was long, pulled back from a face that was all sharp angles and hard planes, as if carved from the same ancient stone as the monolith behind you. He stopped just at the edge of the clearing, his eyes—a startling, clear gray—finding yours and holding them. There was no warmth in his expression, only a quiet, unnerving intensity.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your voice trembling despite your effort to sound strong. “Where am I?”

His gaze flickered from your face to the monolithic stone and back again. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and steady, a deep baritone that seemed to vibrate in the humming air. “You are in Aethelgard. And you have been called.”

The words meant nothing. They were just sounds that did nothing to quell the frantic screaming inside your head. “Called? Called by what? I want to go home.” You gestured wildly at the black stone. “Is this some kind of… door? You have to send me back.”

He took another step into the clearing, and you felt a strange, involuntary pull toward him, a current of energy that was both frightening and inexplicably compelling. It was a recognition deep in your bones that you couldn’t explain.

“The gateway is sealed,” he stated, the words delivered without a trace of sympathy. They were a simple, immutable fact. “It will not open for you again.”

The finality in his tone was a physical blow. The last, desperate flicker of hope you’d been clinging to was extinguished. Tears of frustration and terror burned at the back of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall in front of this cold, unreadable man. He watched you, his expression unchanging, his gray eyes seeming to see right through your fear to the raw panic beneath. There was no comfort in his presence, no reassurance. He was just another part of this impossible, terrifying place.

“Why?” you whispered, the question barely audible. “Why am I here?”

He didn't answer immediately. His stare was so direct it felt like a physical touch, pinning you in place. “My name is Kaelan,” he said at last, ignoring your question entirely. “The woods are not safe for you. You will come with me.” It wasn't a request. It was a command.

You stared at him, a fresh wave of defiance rising to meet your fear. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know you.”

His expression remained impassive, but his gray eyes dropped to your arm. You followed his gaze and saw it—a long, jagged tear in the sleeve of your tank top where a branch had snagged the thin cotton. It was a stupid, trivial detail, but it felt like another piece of evidence of how out of place you were.

Kaelan closed the distance between you in two silent strides. You instinctively took a step back, but your heel hit the soft earth at the base of the monolith, stopping you. He was close now, close enough that you could feel a subtle heat radiating from him, a stark contrast to the forest’s chill. He smelled of leather, woodsmoke, and something else—something wild and clean, like a storm just before it breaks. He was taller than you’d first thought, his shadow falling over you, and you had to crane your neck to meet his gaze.

“You are right to be cautious,” he said, his voice a low murmur that sent a strange vibration through your chest. “But you have no other choice.”

He reached out, his movements slow and deliberate. You flinched, your muscles tensing, but you didn't pull away. You were transfixed by the quiet intensity in his eyes. His fingers, calloused and warm, brushed against the bare skin of your shoulder as he took hold of the torn edge of your sleeve. The contact was electric, a jolt that had nothing to do with the cold.

You held your breath, watching his hand. He didn’t pull out a needle or thread. He simply closed his fingers around the fabric and murmured something under his breath, a word in a language you didn't recognize that sounded like shifting stones. A faint, golden light bloomed between his fingers for a single second. You felt a strange warmth spread across your arm, and then it was gone.

He released the fabric and stepped back.

You looked down. The tear was gone. Not stitched, not patched, but completely vanished. The threads were seamlessly woven together, the cotton smooth and whole, as if it had never been ripped at all.

You touched the spot with trembling fingers. It was real. The magic, the forest, this man—it was all real.

The truth didn't arrive with a scream. It landed with a silent, crushing weight that stole the air from your lungs and buckled your knees. This wasn't a nightmare you could wake from. The life you knew—your apartment, your job, your friends, your entire world—was gone, separated from you by a barrier you couldn't see or comprehend. The gateway was sealed. You were never going home.

A single, hot tear finally escaped and tracked a path down your cold cheek. Then another. You didn’t sob or make a sound, you just stood there, leaking the last of your broken hope onto the mossy ground. You were adrift in an ocean of impossibility, and this stern, frightening man was the only piece of driftwood in sight.

You looked up at him through the blur of your tears. His face was still a mask of stoicism, but you saw something shift in his gaze, a flicker of an emotion you couldn't name. Pity? Regret? It was gone before you could be sure. He waited, his stillness a silent challenge.

There was no choice. To stay here was to surrender to the whispering woods and whatever unseen dangers they held. To go with him was a risk, but it was the only path that led away from certain despair.

Slowly, you gave a single, jerky nod.

Without another word, Kaelan turned his back on you and the monolithic stone. He began walking toward the dense, silver-leafed trees, his long strides confident and sure. He didn't look back to see if you were following. He simply expected you to.

Your feet felt like lead, but you forced them to move. You took one last look at the humming black stone, the last piece of your old reality, and then you turned and followed him into the shadows of the woods, your fear a tangible thing that walked right beside you.