I woke up around noon with Kazumi’s soft lips on my forehead. I could think of worse things to wake up to. I smiled up at her and found her looking distinctly small. I realized the illusion must’ve worn off while I slept. Kazumi giggled at my momentary confusion.

“We figured it was best to let you sleep.” She paused. “And you looked really cute. You were making soft noises.”

“Heyy,” I said, but couldn’t keep a smile from my face as I slowly got up. Sabine walked over and waved.

“Good morning, Liz,” she said.

I looked up. “Is it?” I couldn’t tell with the density of the trees. Even just a few dozen feet in, the darkness was already creeping in.

“Well, no. Erza assures me it’s about noon. But good morning nonetheless.”

I knelt down and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. “Good morning, babe.”

After a few seconds, I was once again small, and we shared breakfast around the fire. It wasn’t spectacular; Mellie and Tilly had gone out to forage for berries and fruit -- this late in the year, most of the brush near the forest’s edge bore ripe juicy… things that tasted halfway between pears and mangoes that made my brain hurt. Morgana had caught some rabbits in the field outside. “Don’t hunt in the forest,” she’d said ominously. “What provisions we have now, we’ll have to survive on until we reach the other side.”

The tea Lillian had made was nice, something chamomile-adjacent, and we all had a cup as we were told again about the forest.

“We’ll head due east through the Redwood,” Morgana said, “curving southeast halfway through. It’ll take us through the Deepwood, but avoid the… strangest parts. The most dangerous.” She drew a little map with a stick. It was simple, a little ‘you are here’ cross inside a circle that was the forest, and a squiggly line that was the Dergow on the other side. “We’re going to walk slow but steady. There is game to be found in these woods, but we’ll not want to hunt any of it. Do not disturb it if you can. We want to leave it as we found it. If you see something you don’t understand, try not to look at it. The abyss between the trees here does not like to be stared at.”

She crouched down and tapped on the part of the map where the deepest part of the forest was going to be. “Things will get messy when we get here. The passage of time and the orientation of space are malleable there, and you won’t want to be separated. If you are, go by your feelings. If you start to walk in a certain direction, and it feels wrong, turn around, something doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Go with what feels right?” Lillian asked.

“Gods no,” Morgana scoffed. “If it feels right, that means something wants to be disturbed, and that’s worse. No, there is a little gray area, and that is where you’ll operate.”

I gulped. This sounded scarier by the minute.

“We’ll be fine, so long as we stick together, stay together, and respect the forest. The things that live here are older than any story you know, and the only thing they care about is their peace and quiet. I know my way through these woods. If you lose yours... ” She paused. “Don’t lose yours.”

We all nodded uneasily and started to break camp. We were all quiet. The silence was unpleasant, though there was some comfort in the sound of birdsong. It was good to know that these woods weren’t devoid of life. I wondered what kind of spirit would live in the place described by Morgana. In most media, even most religions I grew up with, spirits had goals, desires. Were they here to protect these woods? Were they the old gods, pushed back into the forests when society advanced? The idea that these answers might be wrong, that the things lurking in the trees were unknown and unknowable was uncomfortable.

We moved in a long line, a simple formation, with the two people at the rear walking side by side so nobody could just disappear without anyone noticing. Morgana walked up front, then Tilly, who had a lantern on a stick attached to her backpack, then Lillian, Kazumi and Sally. Then came myself and Erza, and Sabine and Mellie brought up the rear. We figured that Mellie was comfortable enough with the woods to spot anything, and Sabine powerful enough to assist if necessary. Morgana had seemed skeptical, and had reiterated that fighting wouldn’t be an option. “The old magic doesn’t care about the new,” she’d said, and left it at that. Every other person had a lantern, and they did the worst thing possible. Without them, the darkness had been a kind of dark blue, something you felt like your eyes could adjust to. With them, every shadow deepened. But they were necessary, I’d been assured. It wouldn’t be much longer before the forest would be cloaked in blackness, and the light would be the only thing keeping some of the hungrier shadows at bay.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

We walked, slowly and carefully, trying not to trip. We tried not to talk too much, or even breathe too loudly. Morgana, enigmatic as ever, walked calmly up front and turned around from time to time to make sure we were still following. A small kindness, but not one I’d expected. I’d doubted that, if any of us got left behind, she’d be all that concerned, but it seemed she was looking after us somewhat, if dispassionately.

The darkness deepened. Of course it did. It wasn’t long until the trees weren’t a backdrop anymore. The vertical lines that had blocked our vision slowly disappeared into the inky blackness, and the trunks started to appear in our little bubbles of light like icebergs out of the mist. The soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the soft creaking of our lanterns became louder and louder to our ears as the forest grew quieter and quieter. There were still birds chirping overhead, somewhere, but it was like the shadows muffled everything. I tried not to look around too much; I was certain to see a pack of red eyes or something follow us around.

But at some point I glanced up and saw something between the trees, as if our lanterns were reflected. “Erza,” I whispered.

“I see it,” she said from behind me. “Try not to look at it too much.” It was hard not to. It was like a glass sphere, a dozen or more feet in diameter, hanging between the trees a little ways in the distance, visible only because of our pinpricks of lights reflecting off of it. I had no way to measure just how far away it was.

“What do you think it is?”

Erza cleared her throat and for the first time since I’d met her, there was a tone of uneasiness in her voice. “I reckon that’s an eye, Eliza.”

I immediately turned away and tried not to notice that it blinked as it followed us. After a while, it was gone. I hadn’t seen when. We’d been walking for a few hours, and it was so easy to see movement in the shadows cast by our lanterns and it was best not to try to. I focused on Sally’s back in front of me, and ignored everything else. We all tried to, for as long as possible, but that became harder and harder. We’d started hearing things, in the distance. Sometimes it was low-pitched noises, almost like whalesong. From time to time, a tree, one of these massive trees, snapped and fell over somewhere in the forest, a horrifying groaning and creaking noise that should have gone accompanied by the terrified cawing of birds and shrieking of animals but simply went by in absolute silence.

Morgana descended our ranks, talking to everyone separately about what they might have seen. She seemed to be comforting some, like Tilly, who was severely uncomfortable though she kept on walking, and debriefing others.

“Have you seen anything?” she asked me.

I nodded, and told her about the eye, too big, much too big for anything living. She nodded. “Whatever names these spirits have or once had are lost to time. Most of them probably have none. But I’ve seen that one before, if it is what I’m thinking of. She’s mostly harmless, if you’re not too…” She paused. “Shiny.”

I didn’t say anything, just blinked.

“She likes to collect shiny things. We will be fine; most of us aren’t wearing brand new armor.”

I gulped and looked behind at Erza, who shifted uneasily in her armor. It was dirty, battered armor that fitted her role as a mercenary, but ideas are hard to get out of your head.

Morgana continued her little walk down the line, and then softly and quietly hurried back to the front. Finally, there was something we couldn’t ignore. There was a bit of light in the distance, but that only came after. The first thing that caught our attention was the sound, or even the feeling. There was a rumbling underfoot. Rhythmic footsteps that reverberated throughout the forest. Morgana had slowed us down, but we hadn’t stopped, not yet, as soft vibrations slowly became clearer and louder. And there was something else. A rhythmic clacking, like someone slamming a door loudly.

We looked around to see which way it was coming from, until we finally realized that we’d been walking directly towards it. We realized because we heard a low wail, like the not-quite-whalesong we’d heard before, coming from straight ahead. The steps became louder and louder, and I noticed I’d started holding my breath, terrified of being seen or heard by whatever was this loud. Morgana finally called us to a halt and, with a wave of her arm, called us towards her. We huddled in a circle of golden light. Morgana didn’t seem very worried, but apparently it was important to her that we stay together.

“Be very quiet,” she whispered, “don’t move. Do not breathe. But make sure to look, because some things you’ll only see once in a lifetime.”

I didn’t know what she meant by that. I felt like I’d be happier not seeing whatever monstrosity would walk out from between the trees, with feet large enough to make an animatronic T-Rex seem small by comparison. Despite the horror of the forest, I was very happy to be proven wrong.

The light was the first thing we saw, a white glow that, as it got closer along with the footsteps and the slamming noise, became more and more distinct. Finally, we saw that it came from a swarm of bugs that emitted a soft, cold white light. But the little flying creatures weren’t what caught our attention. I was glad Morgana had told us to pay attention.

Slowly and majestically, from between the trees, walked a stag. It was stories tall, a hundred foot or more. Its pelt was a mottled white and black, its two pairs of eyes milky white, reflecting the fireflies buzzing around it. It had at least six antlers, growing out of the top and the back of its head, a massive network of branching horns that created an intricate web above its head like a road map to nowhere. The lighting bugs buzzed between them as the massive creature slowly walked through the forest.

Its face looked almost sorrowful. It was old, very old, its fur whitened with age, and all over were patches where moss had begun to grow. It was hard to know how long it had roamed this forest, how many ages it had seen come and go, but as I looked at it, I got the feeling it was older than recorded history.

It slowly moved its head from side to side, occasionally hitting a tree with one of its antlers, creating the cracking sound we’d been hearing. It didn’t seem like it was able to see us, its blind eyes blinking uncaringly as it slowly drifted past us. One of its hooves planted a few feet from us and the ground shook as the massive foot crashed into the underbrush. The creature was majestic and terrifying. It was beautiful. It opened its mouth and bellowed again. It was a haunting wail, sorrowful and old, bouncing off the trees into the darkness.

And then it kept walking, and disappeared between the trees again, its footsteps slowly dissipating into nothing. I realized I’d been crying. I looked around and saw most of us had. Even Morgana had shed a tear. She noticed me looking at her, and there was no shame in her voice.

“I never thought I’d see one again. I’d feared they were all gone,” she said, with a soft smile.

Everyone comforted each other, and we looked ahead. I had no idea how long we’d been walking, and how much longer the trek through the forest would be. The darkness was absolute and unending, and I had no idea what else to expect. But I held on to the people around me. Together we’d make it through this.