Into The Wild Jon Krakauer

’Into The Wilderness’, the story of a group of occasionally reluctant heroes who set out to preserve their world from total evil. An adventure story of a princess nymph and an elven in the world of human to their world in which we known as Aghartha, but in the story was called Misthereal World. This narrative begins with a princess nymph waking up from a tree whose soul has been maintained in the human world for more than a hundred years. She got lost in the woods and came across a lot of endangered animals, which worried her in every way until she discovered more than unexpectable.

While on a trip, I caught my Alpha fiancé cheating on me with my adoptive sister, Selena. Once they realized I saw them, they ruthlessly abandoned me in that forbidden forest and let Selena return to take my place. For ten days, I was missing. No search party came, and my communication crystal remained silent. Then, while trying to escape a savage bear, I fell down a rocky slope and was left broken, bleeding, and alone. Just as I was on the brink of death and unable to heal, Ryker appeared and saved me. He was wild and imposing, yet lethally gentle. During our days and nights together in the wilderness, it took only a few hoarse whispers to tear down my defenses. I grew absurdly attached to him, believing he was my only salvation in this desolate place. Until one night, I found him contacting the outside world on a high-grade crystal. On the other end was Selena. "Why haven't you finished her off yet? As long as she never comes back, Alaric will be all mine." And my devoted savior replied in that same doting tone, "As long as it makes you happy, I'd spend a lifetime keeping up this charade with her in the wilderness." It was then I understood. What I believed to be a gift from the Goddess was nothing more than another death trap, meticulously woven to ensure Selena got her way. When my heat arrived, on the night of our supposed marking, I threw myself into the roaring river of death that marked the border. I would rather be torn to shreds by the current than look at that despicable "mate" for another second.

On a trip to Chicily, my wife, Rosa Stone, and her first love, Jack Cud, insisted on feeding wild, starving wolves. I simply reminded them, "You might attract more hungry wolves." They turned on me, calling me a heartless monster. In the end, I was right. A pack of wolves really did show up. They circled the car, watching us hungrily. Jack was bitten by one. To my surprise, Rosa kicked me out of the car, yelling, "Jack is hurt! He needs to be taken to the hospital! Distract the wolves, I'll come back for you!" I watched them drive away, leaving me behind, surrounded by hungry wolves closing in from all sides. My heart sank. But, Rosa forgot one thing—I was a great Wolvesmith.

A blizzard had buried the mountain, turning every road into a death trap. Locals called it Deadman's Pass—seventy-two icy switchbacks with zero room for error. As the only person who had ever made it through without a scratch, I'd just gotten a million-dollar rescue call from beyond the final curve. Ten years ago, I went there once. My seventeen-year-old daughter, Maya, was skydiving with her classmates when a violent air current forced an emergency landing. The rescue came too late. She died there. Later, I learned my husband, Jayden Boone, had ignored Maya's safety. He poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into the rescue effort and redirected every team to save his ex's daughter instead. The girl had only sprained her ankle on a hiking trip. The day Maya died, I walked away from my career as a professor and stayed here, living as a broke driver. I risked my life running Deadman's Pass again and again until I knew every turn by heart. In the ten years since, no one else had died on that road. Today, a friend shoved a million-dollar rescue job in front of me and told me to leave right away. I looked at the face in the photo—the one I could never forget. Then I smiled and tossed my keys onto the table. "I can't take this job."

On the snowy mountain, Shawn Foster's neighbor, Susan Taylor, suffered from altitude sickness. He blamed me for not bringing supplies in time. He tied me up and left me on the mountain, five thousand meters above sea level. "You should experience the pain Susan went through." I rushed up the mountain to find them, completely forgetting that I was already exhausted. Without an oxygen supply, I gasped for air desperately. He held Susan in his arms and headed down the mountain. I begged him for mercy, but he did not even glance at me. I struggled, but I could not break free from the Prusik knot he tied himself. The same knot I once taught him. Three days later, he asked his colleagues about my whereabouts. "I would never have forgiven her so quickly if it's not Susan's kindness." But he did not know—I had long been buried beneath the snow.

I hid behind a thick tree trunk and watched silently as a grizzly bear attacked my husband. In my previous life, I was a guide. I led my husband—an environmental photographer—and his female colleague into a nature reserve to film wildlife. While scouting the route, I discovered a nursing grizzly bear and immediately warned them not to take any photos and to retreat slowly. To my shock, they intentionally bumped into me, causing my right leg to be cut and bleed. The scent of blood enraged the bear, and it charged straight at me, sinking its massive jaws into my abdomen. After the bear left, my husband calmly stripped me of all my equipment. Then, wrapping his arms around his female colleague, he kissed her. He turned to me with a sinister smile creeping across his face. "Kate," he said, "I'll be honest. I never loved you. You're dying. Now, all your assets will be mine." I bled out and died. When I opened my eyes again, it was the morning of the day we entered the mountains.