When he looked at the forest from up the hill, all he saw was the canopy – a vibrant, beautiful green that covered the land. When he looked at the foot of the hill from the mansion’s training ground, he thought he saw what lay beneath that canopy – thick, gnarly roots that slowly crawled towards the city.

He had believed that was all there was beneath that thick canopy. Just darkness, a root-covered surface, and the occasional animal.

He couldn’t have been more wrong. The further Alistair led them into the old growth, the brighter and more vibrant their surroundings became. It started with a butterfly he spotted. It had bright blue, luminescent wings.

Then, wildlife started to appear. Large, leafy plants grew between the layers of roots forming the forest’s surface. Vines decorated with beautiful, glowing flowers climbed the trees, and large fruits hung from the ancient trees.

It was nothing like the forest in Lohssa.

“Don’t touch anything that glows,” Alistair warned them. “It’s not dangerous, but the glow is a bit… sticky.”

“I’ve never seen these plants before,” Midhir whispered as he walked next to the young Orlein.

Alistair nodded. “You couldn’t. Father thinks they’re not from here.” He scowled, as if he was pondering how to explain it. “He thinks they’re remnants from the other side, that somehow spread here during the Bareon Disaster.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine. “They came through the tear?” he hadn’t heard of anything material passing through the veil before. Even Lord Andor’s memoir didn’t mention it – all the threats they faced during and after the disaster had been possessed men and women, and natural disasters brought forth by spiritual power.

“Father believes so. He’s working with our arborists to try and contain the spread, but they haven’t been very successful. These only existed around the monuments just four years ago.” Alistair vaguely pointed north. “It’s spread a lot. It worries me.”

Looking at the foreign plants and butterflies, Midhir shuddered. The blue flowers blooming around the tear in Lohssa came to mind. They too glowed like this, but much more brightly. He could feel the power there.

“Let’s take a moment to rest,” Alistair said, his gaze lingering on the trees around them. “I want to try and get a good view of our surroundings.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Midhir scowled. “From the treetops?”

The young noble nodded. “Help me out, I doubt the higher branches would carry my weight.”

“I could say the same,” Midhir muttered as he sheathed his sword. He was slightly shorter than Alistair, but not by that much.

Alistair chuckled, then crossed his fingers, his palms facing up. “Come on,” he urged Midhir to hurry.

With a sigh, Midhir placed his foot on Alistair’s hands. “Fine,” he grumbled, and pushed himself up at the same time as Alistair’s lift. His hands barely reached the lowest branch of the tree, which he firmly grasped.

He struggled to pull himself up for a moment, but eventually managed to do so. The branch creaked, though he was sure it wouldn’t just break off. It was thick and sturdy, wide enough that he could comfortably sit on it.

“So far so good,” he whispered mostly to himself as he got up on his knees and glanced around.

He expected little visibility, but instead he was met with vibrant, luminescent life up here. The top of the branch he was on was covered in moss, vines wrapped around it, and a host of small animals and insects seemed to have made it their home. Looking up, he saw more of that – butterflies nested on the upper branches, the moss grew brighter in colour, and leafy plants grew on small mounds of dirt and dead leaf piles on the branches.

Hesitant, he reached for the next branch. It was difficult to find a grip on it since the moss was so soft, and slippery. His hands gripped something smaller a moment later, perhaps the branch was splitting, allowing him to easily catch it.

He stood up, then pulled himself up on the next branch, startling the animals. Squirrel-like creatures ran off, while a few small birds flew away, leaving a few of their feathers behind.

He caught one of the dropping feathers. The black feather was surprisingly large, longer than his forearm and wider than his outstretched fingers. He raised it towards a patch of glowing flowers blooming on the vines hanging from above to try and getter a better look at it.

The feather reflected the blue light, its tip slowly turning an odd, bone-white colour. With a scowl, he pulled it away, watching it return to its insignificant black colour.

“Are you alright up there?” Captain Rianne’s voice reached him.

Letting the feather vanish into the holding gem that was his earring, he leaned over the edge of the branch. “Yeah. It’s difficult to find a good grip though. This place is covered in moss.”

Alistair was standing beside the captain. “Be careful. A fall from there could be lethal.”

Midhir nodded before pulling himself away from the edge and turned his attention upwards again. The sky was still hidden behind the layers of branches and leaves. He couldn’t help but wonder how high these trees really reached.

Looking from afar, or even looking at the new growth near Bareon and the road leading to An’Larion didn’t do them justice.

With a sigh, he continued his climb. The branches began to grow thinner, and he felt them move and bend under his weight. Dangerous creaks reached his ears, startling the wildlife around him, and striking a primal fear into his heart – the fear of falling.

The sky appeared suddenly, as he got up on his knees again, and his head suddenly broke through the canopy of leaves, revealing the depths of the Old Growth to him.

A pain struck his left eye as he spotted what they sought not far from here – a bone-white monument, illuminated with fire.