A blinding light enveloped Taren, forcing his eyes closed. It was absolutely unbearable. He fell to the ground and covered his eyes with his hands. This relieved the pain a little, but it was only a temporary solution. It would not be possible to go wandering around without being able to see. He laid there for several moments contemplating what he should do. He could not magic a shield over his eyes, the band prohibited that.

He got to his feet and began to walk, one hand still covering his eyes. This was irritating to him. The years underground were not at all beneficial to this new way. It was probably what the others wanted: him in the brightest light imaginable and unable to even open his eyes. Taren began to wonder what sort of creatures lived in this world. It was not a good thought, as he immediately began to imagine the bloodthirsty creatures that lived in the surface caves of his old home.

He stopped walking. Directly in front of him the light seemed to be a little less bright. He lowered his hand slowly and could make out the outline of large column-like things. They were blocking the sun from his eyes and that made him feel grateful. He stepped closer into his shelter. He reached out and touched one of the pillars. They felt odd under his hand; they had an odd texture completely unlike stone. He stepped into their midst and was immediately thankful for the shelter. The awful light no longer tormented his eyes as badly as it had.

He moved further into the shade. Eventually, it became so dark that he could open his eyes a little bit. He was surrounded by the tall pillars. He could only see a canopy of leaves. He could not see very far in any direction.

Trees, Taren thought, that's what they are called.

History had never been a favorite subject for him, and trees were beyond a doubt in the ancient history of his people. They had not been above ground in over one thousand years. On occasion, a small group would jump to another world to gather a few supplies, such as the vegetables that did not grow below ground. No one but a selected few were ever allowed out. The other worlds were dangerous, supposedly. Only the brave and the hardy were chosen. Many of them never returned from the gathering expeditions. As Taren looked around the forest he thought mainly that they most not be all that tough. The bright light, sun, as he now remembered, had been troublesome, but nothing that he hadn't been able to overcome. There wasn't anything dangerous as far as he could see. There was nothing at all except for hundreds and hundreds of trees.

Bah, he thought, and they thought that he was too weak to take care of himself. No, he would survive without all of the special training and preparations. As he could now see fairly well, he decided to explore his surroundings more. He rose to his feet and began to walk. The ground was covered in a thick blanket of moss, making the footing odd, but very enjoyable.

He felt hunger start to gnaw at his ribs. Taren frowned. This was something that he needed to take care of reasonably soon. He began to look around at all the vegetation. With a smile, he saw a bush full of berries. Apparently, he would not have a problem finding food either.

Taren picked some of the ripe berries their tart juice filling his mouth the moment he bit into them. They had a taste that was previously unknown to him. Taren ate his fill of the little berries, allowing their pulp to settle into his stomach before rising again.

The darkness had now gotten much deeper, and, in the cave dweller's opinion, far easier to navigate. He wandered through the trees and began to wonder if this world was inhabited at all. To his unease, Taren began to feel as if he was being watched. He turned his head quickly, trying to get a glimpse of the eyes he felt, but he could see nothing among the trees. Still that feeling hung over him like a cloud of gnats.

"Hello?" he called into the surrounding tree trunks. "Who is there?"

No one answered his calls.

"Must be my imagination," Taren murmured, but he could not leave the feeling behind. He shook his head ruefully. There was no reason to be afraid of the shadows. Just out of his vision, the man thought that he saw something move. Whirling, he tried to see what was following him, but again nothing was there. Feeling his anger rising, Taren quickened his pace. Suddenly, he felt something grab him and he fell over. Rolling over he found himself staring into the eight large, many faceted eyes of a giant spider.