The tangle of roots and thorns that made up their own forest seemed to have no end. That very fact was made worse by the dim lighting and the fog that kept Misha from seeing far beyond herself or Grey. It was thinner than the clearly magical fog that had separated her from her allies earlier, but it worked well enough all the same, blinding Misha to what may lie ahead or behind her and Grey. This place left her feeling exposed, like predators could be lurking anywhere. Above her and Grey, the gigantic roots hung over each other in layers before some above even those made up a ceiling that blocked out most sunlight, meaning something could easily be hiding somewhere up there.

Misha gripped the fur on Grey’s back tightly as she wondered if any of the others had made it out of their encounter with the fey. Surely they must have, hadn’t they? Veldin and Aliana were capable in battle, and Misha assumed the same must have been true for Remerick. But there hadn’t been a single sound since the fog had engulfed them all. Was that a part of its powers as well? Or did it mean something more?

Misha tried to focus her mind on the shifting of Grey’s muscles as he walked through this place, rather than on the worry that was eating away at her. It wouldn’t do well to fixate on the fate of her friends right now, she had to focus on finding a way to help them first and foremost. But, then, what could she do? She hadn’t been able to help them even when she had been right there.

The moisture in the air caused Misha’s whiskers to twitch. She looked around. The fog looked thicker, but she was unsure if it had simply been her imagination. “Grey?” she asked. The wolf responded with a huff and began to walk faster. It wasn’t Misha’s imagination, then. She kept one hand gripped on Grey’s fur, and reached the other to the bow on her back. She held her ears high and alert to take in any sounds.

Yet, as Grey continued to walk, turning down pathways and climbing over roots that remained on the ground, there was nothing. Not a single sound disturbed the air besides those made by Grey or Misha. Perhaps this fog was natural, then. Perhaps it was nothing to worry about.

Veldin would know, Misha thought. And it was true, he would. Troublesome as he could be, Misha trusted him to have the answer to just about any question, especially those that pertained to magic. Misha had certainly learned a thing or two since she’d begun her travels alongside the arcanist, but she had no way to discern whether fog was magical or mundane.

“Could we have done something, Grey?” Misha asked, the question coming to her mind suddenly. Grey halted mid-stride for just a moment and tilted his head as if questioning the mousefolk on his back before continuing on. Misha elaborated, “The others. Wasn’t there something we could have done to help them?”

Grey made a small whining noise. Misha wasn’t completely sure what to make of that, but assumed Grey had no better answer than she did. She looked out into the fog, seeing that it was thicker now. She regretted asking her question, in case something in the fog was listening. But they hadn’t been attacked yet, so maybe she was worrying too much.

“Did you know?” she asked instead of remaining silent as she should have.

Grey again did not seem to understand.

“Elcevier. Did you know? You disappeared somewhere in her mansion and…. And, well, the next time I saw you, you’d gone and defended Aliana from her. So… So, you knew, didn’t you?”

Grey answered with a low, soft growl in his throat. It was enough of an answer to confirm Misha’s suspicions. He knew, and you never so much as suspected, she told herself.

She’d trusted Elcevier at face value. Veldin had been so trusting and dedicated to her, after all, so what reason would Misha have had to doubt him? Even when Aliana had said otherwise, and had suspected something was amiss. Aliana had tried to say that, and Misha had brushed her off. What right did you have to say to her what you did?

Misha felt tears sting at her eyes when she realized that. She didn’t notice she’d placed both hands back on Grey’s fur, no longer ready to grab her bow. “I’m so sorry, Grey. I’ve ruined everything.”

Grey slowed his steps, whimpering slightly in a search for more clarification from Misha.

“I was… I should have noticed. You and Aliana both noticed something was wrong this whole time, and I should have as well and—and I killed the forest—it was me, Grey, I killed the forest, I destroyed our home, Sie’s home, I killed…” The tears had begun to flow freely down Misha’s face as, as if a dam had burst, a wave of thoughts and memories overcame her all at once and she was forced to hold back a sob. “I can’t do anything right! Grey, I’m so sorry!”

There was a shift in Grey’s posture, and suddenly, Misha rolled and tumbled off his back as he sat down on the ground. She landed softly in the fog-dampened dirt beneath him just as the wolf leaned down to press his nose against Misha’s face, whimpering all the while. Misha pulled herself into the fur on Grey’s chest as she struggled to find words to fight back the torrent of regret and guilt in her mind. She didn’t understand why these thoughts had come to her now, but she had no way to stop them. What have you done to help them? Made a nice little charm necklace? You know how to apply a bandage? How far will that knowledge carry you?

Amidst her tears and the sobs that now broke free, Misha didn’t notice the sound of movement somewhere behind her. She was completely unaware until Grey reached down, clamped his mouth down on the back of Misha’s vest, and dragged her along as he jumped out of the way of something approaching. Misha landed on her back when Grey placed her down, and she scrambled upright to see what had just happened through her eyes blurred with tears. A fey stood before her and Grey.

Misha recognized enough details to identify this one. She was of the kind who had appeared in the ambush in the fog. Humanoid in shape with green-tinted skin, and a pair of thin colorful wings like a butterfly’s draped behind her back. This one wore a silver gown that was form-fitted to the shape of her body, even despite the fact that such clothing had no place somewhere like this. Her solid blue eyes twinkled with a sort of glee that hardly matched her words as she said, “Well, it seems the wolf will be harder to kill.”

Misha aimed her bow at the creature and tried to refocus her composure. “I—I’m giving you one warning before I shoot! Leave us alone!”

The fey grinned. “Warning? I think you misunderstand which of us is in the position to give warnings, little one. I’d considered sending you two to another of my realms, seeing as how you escaped your friends’ fates, but I think I’ll just tear you apart right here.”

“Why?” Misha said. “Why are you doing this?!”

“You want to know why? You were told you would be tested upon entering here, I’m only doing my duty.” The fey moved the fingers of one hand back and forth as she spoke, her long claw-like nails clicking as they tapped each other with the movements. Grey growled, his muscles coiled and ready to pounce, yet the fey’s demeanor remained calm and even cheerful.

“You’re hurting people! Your queen is terrorizing even the fey who live here!”

“And what is your point? I am already one of her elite, it’s of no concern to me. And besides, this land’s previous ruler did much the same, and it took so long for anything to be done about her.”

“The previous ruler?” Misha said. “What do you mean?”

“The woman with the rotted magic, surely you remember her? Your group was with her for a time, after all.” the fey answered. “Someone of her skill could have been a great nuisance to our plans had she deigned to come to us herself, so I must thank you for being rid of her.”

“El… Elcevier?” That was right. There had been fey present even around Elcevier’s home from the start. “That was intentional, then!? You used us!”

“Well, not myself personally. I’m given to understand Her Majesty took part in that bit of chaos herself. But, yes. You were quite useful for that much, if not much else.”

Misha pulled her bowstring back. She’d heard enough of this fey’s gloating. “Where are my friends?! Tell me!” she demanded.

The fey looked only all the more amused at Misha’s threat, but spoke anyway, “As I said, I’ve sent them off to my other realms. It’s hardly a fair way to judge their skills if you’re all together. Though, a few of you managed to cling to each other anyway, which is a shame. You can free them, if you’d like.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Misha was hesitant as to whether she should answer, feeling the statement must have clearly been a trap. “How… How can I do that?”

“Well, that’s quite simple. You only have to kill me, assuming they’re still alive at this point. Do you think you can do it?” With a flick of her wrist and a mutter of a quick word in Feyish, a flash of light appeared in the fey’s hand before solidifying into a thin-bladed sword with an ornate hilt. The moment it appeared, Misha released the arrow she’d kept to her bow and Grey lunged forward after it.

The fey moved quickly, bringing the sword up in the same moment the arrow was released and slicing the projectile in half, knocking it out of the air. Grey switched the direction of his charge at the last moment and dodged to the side when he saw the fey swing the sword back down towards him. Grey did not stop, however. Rather than turn back to the fey after the initial attack, he continued running towards one of the roots, jumping up as if trying to climb up it with his claws.

"Where are you going?!" the fey shouted. "I believe I'm the one you should be taking issue with!" She gave chase after Grey, readying her weapon.

Misha shot another arrow towards the fey, only for the woman to turn and parry this one mid-flight as well. She raised her sword and said, sounding annoyed, “The balon will have to handle itself,” as she ran for Misha instead.

Misha dived to the side, reaching for her dagger on her belt. When the fey stepped in for another attack, Misha leaped forward under her legs and slipped beneath and behind her. She took the chance to swing out with the dagger. She moved quickly and deftly landing a single slash across the back of the fey's leg, drawing a forth silver liquid. The fey hissed as she turned to face Misha again. The sword came around, landing a nick on the side of Misha's face where her own blood began to pour down.

In a battle up close, Misha knew she could not win. This was a magical being skilled with her weapon of choice, while Misha's dagger was for defense and utility. So, she turned, her survival instinct telling her to flee.

"Where are you running to, little mouse?!" the fey called out as Misha dived through a patch of the massive roots. Some of the thorns caught her fur and skin, drawing blood along her arm and her side, but she kept moving. She needed to regroup with Grey, but even now as she moved through the roots, she could see the fey turn on her companion. Though Grey had been trying to climb the roots, he was still a wolf and had not gotten far, now forced to face the fey. He jumped down to the ground before her, snarling.

"Well, that's a good boy!" the fey said in a sickeningly mocking tone. "Looks like it's just you and I now. Your little replacement has abandoned you."

Replacement? The word almost caused Misha to falter as she wondered what the fey meant. But she had to keep moving. Grey was going to be killed if she stopped now. She would be as well. You’ll both be killed anyway if it’s up to you to do the saving, Misha‘s mind told herself, unable to keep the thought at bay.

But, Grey had been after something. The fey had mentioned a “balon.” Whatever it was, Grey had been onto something about it.

Misha stopped, catching her breath as she looked up at the roots above her. They twisted and turned up and over and around her. What was she looking for? Where was it? There was still barely anything to be seen in the darkness and the fog. She had no choice but to keep moving when she heard Grey let out a whimper of pain. She grabbed onto one of the roots, digging her nails into it, and began to climb up along it. Every now and then, she felt a thorn prick at her skin through her fur.

Why do you persist?

Misha slowed when those words entered her head. Why were these thoughts coming to her now?

This is foolish. Leave this to someone more skilled than you.

Perhaps... Perhaps that was right. Perhaps Misha had no place doing this. Still, she moved her body. Or it moved on its own. She climbed, and was above the clearing now, where the fey and Grey circled one another, waiting for the next strike.

You are weak. You are naive. What is the point in continuing your quest when there are others more capable?

"W—what?" Misha stopped. Something wasn’t right.

Leave this quest. Lie down quietly, so that your end shall be merciful. You are struggling to accomplish nothing.

"N... No, I..." Misha shook her head. These weren't her thoughts.

'Veldin is quite clever, is he not? Aliana is skilled and experienced. She carries a magic blade, as well. Who are you? You are not an arcanist nor a trained warrior. You are a mousefolk. A simple guard. You come from a village with no name. And even among them, among the people there, you are nothing.'

"But—but I..." Misha felt the truth of those words closing in around her. Beneath her, she still heard the snarls of Grey facing the fey creature.

'There is nothing you can do. Not for your forest. Not for him.'

Below her, Misha heard a sound that dragged her attention away from those thoughts. Another sharp yelp of pain from Grey. Misha looked down. Grey was struggling to stand as the fey closed in on him. He was covered in blood.

“Grey!” Misha shouted.

Something brushed Misha's whisker, just barely. Enough for her to feel it. Enough for her to realize that the oppressive presence she’d felt was not imagined, not the weight of those thoughts—it was the presence of something here with her. The thing that spoke to her.

Her body moved, fueled on by instincts alone at first, stepping away from whatever had made contact with her. She turned around to see it, her heart pounding. Whatever it was that she was looking at, she was unsure. A slimy thing with tendrils that stuck out from the sides of its body. If Misha had looked at it quickly enough, she may have called it slug-like. But here, face-to-face with the creature that was larger than her, she knew that was not right. It was nothing like a slug. Its body was soft and slick with some viscous liquid helped along by the moisture of the mist, and plentiful eyes lined its back. Eyes that belonged to too many different species. Human, animal, mousefolk, creatures she could not quite place. Misha moved to place distance between herself and the horrid thing. Was it a fey?

'You do not even know enough to place a name to my identity,' came the words again, and Misha knew it was this creature that spoke them, not her own mind.

"This is... This is what you want. You're in my head, you want me to think of these things so you can take advantage of me!"

'Hm. One clever thing of you, I must admit. But that does not make what I’ve told you false,' the being said. The balon. This had to be the thing that the fey had referred to. Misha began running across the roots of the massive tree, putting distance between herself and the creature. Judging by the movement of the roots behind her, however, she could feel that it was chasing her. She leaped nimbly from one root to another, and heard another pained whimper from Grey below her. She could not spare the time to look and see what was happening. She heard snarling and growling, barks, and a grunt of pain from the fey.

Misha had to make a decision, that thought nagged in the back of her mind. What would Aliana do? Fight it head on? With Moonlight at her side, she would be able to cut this thing down easily. What of Veldin, hamper it with a spell? Misha could do nothing of that sort. She could not even take the time to line up a shot against its soft form.

Grey whined and, out of the corner of her eye, Misha saw him collapse to the ground. The fey stood strong, taking relaxed steps towards Grey's weakened, panting body on the ground. Misha could not let him be killed. What could she do?

She could act. She jumped from the root she was on. She allowed herself to drop through the air, throwing herself with as much momentum as she could. The fey looked up, with only enough time to see Misha hurtling towards her. She tried to lift her sword but Misha slammed into her first, directly into her chest and knocking her off balance. Misha hit the ground rolling and Grey, though wounded, snapped up from the ground and gripped his fangs around the fey's ankle. She let out a scream before Grey pulled her to the ground, quickly overcoming her and standing atop her.

Misha grabbed her bow and an arrow and looked up. The thing she'd dubbed the balon hung from the trees. Standing below it, Misha could see it sported a circular mouth of razor-sharp pinpoint teeth like a leech. It moved, trying to retreat into the roots. But Misha's aim and her arrow were faster.

The arrow pierced through the flesh of the soft, slimy thing. It seemed unable to make any sound, but fell from the roots above and landed on the ground below with a sickening squelch of a sound. To Misha’s side, she heard the fey let out a strangled cry that was cut short as Grey’s fangs met her throat. When Grey pulled his head back, his mouth and teeth were covered in the fey’s silver blood. Misha allowed a moment to calm herself. Aside from her own breathing and Grey’s, there was now silence once more in the root forest.

“Grey…” Misha shook her head and looked at her companion. She felt she could think with more clarity now. Even the fog around her seemed lighter as well. She could see the extent of Grey’s injuries now that she was close to him. He was covered in shallow cuts, but the worst of the wounds were a deep gash where the sword had struck his side, and a wound that pierced through the skin and muscle in his front leg. Even as he tried to walk towards Misha, he moved with a limp.

“Stop right there,” Misha commanded and approached Grey instead. The worst of his injuries were bleeding heavily. “I’ll treat the wounds,” Misha said, “but you may not be going much farther in this state, Grey.”

Grey whined, lowering himself to the ground to provide Misha with easy access to his injuries.

“I know… I know you want to.” As Misha set to work pressing a bundle of dried Elthorne leaves to Grey’s side, she said, “I’m so sorry. It was that thing that was making me think that way, wasn’t it?”

Grey growled.

“The… balon.” Perhaps its nature was a question for Veldin. “Maybe it’s not right to say it made me think that way, though. It was in my head. Those thoughts were… They’re always there. They were just brought to the surface.”

Misha once more felt Grey’s nose come up to the side of her face.

“Stop that, quit moving, I’m treating your wounds. I appreciate it, though. I know I’m not as good as Aliana, or Veldin, or… anyone else. I know that. But I’m trying. That thing said I should just roll over and accept a merciful death, but it’s not very merciful if I die with regrets, is it?”

Grey whimpered and rested his head on the ground.

“Grey… That fey said something that I still don’t understand.” Misha tried to find the words for her question. “She said I was… a replacement? Do you know what she meant?”

Grey’s answer was a quiet stare once again, one that Misha was unable to interpret. She decided it was best to ask that at another time. “Alright then. Whatever it means, I think we’ve got bigger things to worry about right now. Still, thank you for everything you’ve done so far. I’ll take things from here.”

Grey then lifted his head and looked off into the distance, thumping his tail against the ground. When Misha followed his gaze, she saw that the fog of this forest had cleared.

“The fey said the others would be freed if we killed her,” Misha said. “Then, let’s see if we can find them.”