The air was alive with the excited chittering of birds. It was as though they were commenting on Sarah and Stanley’s progress down the narrow but somehow clear path. Elven witchcraft, Stanley had declared it, for there was not so much as a fallen leaf upon it. It was narrow, though, scarcely a foot wide, and easy to lose sight of if they strayed so much as a step off it.

Sarah was breathing heavily despite their relatively slow pace. The stillness of the air and the humidity sapped her strength. It was warm here under the trees, even though it was the beginning of winter and sweat soaked into her winter clothes.

She tried to put these things out of her mind and kept her eye on their destination. The massive tree up ahead. They were close now, after three days of travel, which was just as well, for their supplies, both food and water were dangerously low. They had drunk more water than they’d anticipated due to the heat, and now that they weren’t following the river, and dared not stray too far from the trail for fear of losing it, so had precious little remaining.

Sarah’s stomach grumbled, and she tried to ignore it. Neither of them had eaten since the previous day.

“Not long now,” Stanley remarked.

Sarah’s mouth was too parched to reply and marvelled at the difference between these forests and the ones she was accustomed to further north. The undergrowth was much thicker here, for one, which made travel considerably more difficult. It also made it harder to track game, which Sarah had seen little sign of.

She recalled the time Tom had shot a deer while they were travelling through the woods of Mithia. The smell of venison roasting on a fire. Her mouth began to water.

“Hey,” Stanley hissed, “Did you hear me?”

Sarah blinked and looked at him blankly.

“I said, am I the only one seeing that?” he asked and pointed ahead.

Sarah peered through the trees and spotted a meadow up ahead, and a pond. “I see it,” she murmured, “But I’m not sure if I believe it.”

“I know what you mean,” Stanley agreed, “We should exercise caution.”

Sarah nodded in agreement, but both quickened their pace, drawn to the water. Stanley brought them to a halt at the edge of the meadow and they surveyed the area. The meadow was spread out around the base of the huge tree. The meadow looked like it had been recently manicured, Its grass was of uniform ankle length height and there wasn’t so much as an errant weed or fallen leaf on it. A pond sat in the shadow of the giant tree, fed by a pair of small streams. Its waters were crystal clear, and fish darted about within.

Sarah turned her gaze up at the tree. If hollowed out, it could be a city unto itself, she thought to herself. There was no sign of civilization to be seen, but it was hard to believe that such a place could occur naturally.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“What do you think?” Sarah asked as her eyes locked onto the pond.

“I don’t like it,” Stanley declared as he licked his dry lips. “But I can’t see anything out of place.”

As soon as they stepped out of the trees, the air was crisp and cool. They made their way cautiously to the pond, ready to run back into the forest at the first sign of trouble. When they find nothing untoward, Stanley took a cautious sip of water. Detecting no sign of poison, he nodded to Sarah who collected water in her hands and drank deeply.

She placed her hands in the water again to scoop up more, and as soon as her skin touched the water for a second time, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body.

“I am waiting for you in Findendor,” came a male voice that echoed in her head, “I can help you.”

“Who are you?” Sarah asked out loud.

“All will be revealed in Findendor,” the voice replied. “The Green Highway will lead you there.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Sarah looked up to see Stanley looking at her with concern. “You didn’t hear that?”

The gaunt faced man shook his head and looked at her with concern. “You’re hearing voices now?”

Sarah swallowed and looked at her reflection in the water. “The voice said that the Green Highway would lead us to Findendor.”

Stanley stood up and looked around. “I suppose that could be it,” he mused, pointing at a gap in the trees where a thirty foot wide grass covered avenue cut into the forest.

Sarah looked at it and was filled with foreboding. The last mysterious voice that spoke directly to her was Voritor, though this one sounded nothing like him.

“What do we do?” Stanley asked.

Sarah did not reply as she weighed her options. What the voice was saying dovetailed nicely with the letter Lucy had given her. The question remained who that voice belonged to and whether or not he could be trusted.

Stanley looked at the sky and sighed heavily. “It’s late, perhaps we should sleep on it.”

That sounded good to her. She had slept little since they entered the forest, and this sanctuary had provided a welcome respite. Night soon fell, and Sarah lay sprawled out on the grass which was as and comfortable soft as any bed she had slept in. She looked up at the stars and wondered what John would think about their options.

“Go with your gut,” she could hear him say, “And don’t worry, I will protect you.”

Hearing that always made her feel safe.

“John,” she murmured, “where are you now? Safe in Golton, I hope.”

A smile spread across Sarah’s face. No, he wasn’t the kind to sit around. He was probably off on some adventure, roped in by Grimald, no doubt.

“Well, no signs of so much as a squirrel in this place,” Stanley declared as he approached, fresh from inspecting the perimeter, “I don’t know how they did it. It’s like there’s a spell cast around this place.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before either,” Sarah admitted.

Stanley stood in silence as he looked around, marvelling at the meadow. At length, he turned back to Sarah. “Well, do you know what you want to do next?”

Sarah nodded. “I intend to follow the Green Highway to Findendor.”

She then turned her eyes to the lanky man. “And you?”

“I suppose I’ll follow,” Stanley replied, “Against my better judgement.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “If you need me, I’ll be inspecting the tree.”

As he sauntered away, Sarah closed her eyes and drifted off. When she opened them again, she found herself lying on a familiar stone floor before a familiar stone altar.

“The Chosen of Varuna cannot be trusted,” the statue said. Its voice was oddly subdued and sounded weak.

“Is that who I was talking to earlier?” Sarah ventured.

“It is,” the voice rumbled, “As you may be aware, Varuna and I are rivals of sorts, and I would not put it past His Chosen to attempt something.”

“You know what I intend to do in Findendor, don’t you?” Sarah asked quietly.

For the first time since she had been having these visions, the statue fell silent. Sarah looked up at it expectantly.

“That is what you fear, isn’t it?” Sarah asked at length.

“Do not trust Varuna’s Chosen,” the voice warned.