I walked.

  It was a sort of march, pitting myself against my own physical limits. The cold, the injuries, the lack of energy in general; I’d never gone through anything like this before. I knew that something was wrong because I wasn’t hungry anymore. Hours ago, my stomach had been making noise. Now, I barely felt it. My body wasn’t concerned with frivolities such as hunger or hurt. It was much more concerned with cold and the need to sleep.

  But I couldn’t. Not now.

  We marched through the forest, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I tripped a couple of times. Tree roots and rocks hid in the snowfall, effectively nonexistent until someone tripped over them. I remember making a stupid joke. I think I said something along the lines of ‘Is a rock really there if no one trips over it’. Wol simply looked worried.

  My teeth clattered, my fingers turned red and numb, but I kept marching.

  That’s not to say I was stuck in this mindless stupor, walking around like a zombie and trying my best to get there. My mind was anything but wandering. It was fixated on one thing.

  The Trial. Once I got to the Mother Tree… finally, it would start.

  That knowledge kept my mind razor-sharp, the cold and pain only adding to it.

  God, I was so nervous.

  The last stretch was the worst. I reckon it always is. It was an uphill battle, and here, the snow had completely frozen over in certain patches. I was forced to stow the book away into my backpack because I nearly scrambled up the hill on all fours. Luckily, the crutch proved invaluable as I used its leg to smash through ice, using it as an improvised ice pick. I would break through the surface of ice into the soft snow, make sure my crutch would hold still, then drag my weight forward.

  When I reached the rise, my heart turned fierce with raw adrenaline.

  Wol, Hwari, and I were standing on a rise, which was basically the top of the hill. Opposite of the way I came was another downward slope, offering a vista of the lands below that was nothing less than breathtaking. The slope smoothed out into a circular plateau that was empty of trees, creating a perfect ring. Smack dab in the center of the land was an absolute gargantuan tree. The Hudson Witch had not been exaggerating when she named this tree the Mother Tree. It was taller than any of the others that I’d seen on the way here and positively radiated warmth.

  Near the foot of the tree, I saw the reddish glow of fires and tents.

  “Wol, that’s it,” I hissed in satisfaction.

  Wol bounded ahead of me, absorbing the scenery. The black cat stood stark against the background of snow. The moon shone upon him, and his shadow stretched out to my feet.

  “The Mother Tree,” He hissed in the same tone as mine. I saw him lean forward, peering down. “Practitioner, I don’t see any foot steps. I think we’rere the first ones to arrive.”

  My heart did a little skip, but my limbs protested. Sometimes, going downhill is harder than uphill. I should’ve been excited, but I was weary and nervous.

  “Jesus, we made it,” I muttered and took a step forward.

  “Hi Jain!”

  Mina yelled out right next to my ear before something hard slammed into me from behind, and everything went to shit.

  The world turned into a mixture of my crutch, pink backpack, stars in the sky (which were beautiful by the way), the moon, trees in the distance, and Wol’s high-pitched yowl as I rolled down the fucking hill, which I’d just been contemplating on how to descend without killing myself only moments ago. I spun like the blades of the Jain Hallow patented blender, every bump sending shockwaves of pain rolling through my ankle and my arm. Even in that shitshow of a descent, I managed to salvage some self-preservation instincts and cover my head with my free hand.

  I rolled and screamed out of shock and horror. The whole walk here had been silent, except for the sleeping dryads. It didn’t help that they looked freaky, and some of them opened their eyes to peer at me as I passed through. The whole mood of the walk had been less adventure-themed fantasy, and more horror-slasher-film where you just knew the jump scare was right around the corner.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The whole thing lasted maybe ten seconds. Tops.

  I looked up, covered in snow and shivering, just in time to see Mina finish skating down the slope —in her sneakers, might I add— with Seoul loping down right behind her. Wol wasn’t too far behind, screaming at them at the top of his lungs.

  “Jain! You made it!” She said while walking over to where I was. She lifted up her shoes and touched a hand to each heel, and I felt a minor working take place. She’d definitely done some kind of transmutation to the bottom of her shoes to let her skate down like that. I didn’t care how slippery the ice was; that just wasn’t possible.

  “You little—” I snarled, trying to stand and failing.

  Mina laughed, bounding past me. “First!”

  I stopped whatever I was about to say. That could wait until later.

  First, we weren’t alone.

  The Hudson Witch walked towards us, followed by Charlotte Valentine, Taejin Baek, and Emyrith.

  “Welcome, young ones,” the Hudon Witch said and returned to facing the Mother Tree, muttering to herself.

  “Harabeoji!” Mina yelled and promptly dashed towards the Baek family elder. She stopped just short of hugging him and started chattering, asking where he’s been and what she’s been up to. The man crossed his arms behind his back and listened intently.

  Emyrith strode over. Tall, well-dressed, and not looking any different than the version of him in my head that I remembered two days ago.

  “Mr. Hallow,” He said calmly, “You made it.”

  Oh man. A thousand different thoughts rushed through my head. There had been loads of things I could have said. A ‘Fuck you, where were you?’ or ‘What the fuck? Where the hell have you been?’ or even a ‘Do you know what happened to me in the last two days?’

  But that all stopped when I saw the dark circles underneath his eyes and noticed that his tie had been loosened.

  I opted for a scowl. “Yeah, I did. Thanks to my familiars.”

  It hadn’t been outright, but the message was there. I saw the understanding in Emyrith’s eyes, and he gave me a nod of acquiescence.

  “Wol, Hwari,” Emyrith said, greeting my familiars.

  “Lawyer,” Wol said cleanly.

  Hwari wrapped around my leg protectively. ‘Caller, are you wounded?’

  I looked down at my leg, still scowling. Maybe it was the cold, but it wasn’t hurting as badly as it should be. But I could feel the blood vessels trying to burst out of my feet. It was swollen for sure. I’d pay for Mina’s little stunt later.

  Emyrith offered me a hand.

  I scowled some more but took it, and the larger man helped me to my feet. Once I was balanced, he fetched my crutch too.

  “I know you’re upset Mr. Hallow, and perhaps you think I’ve wronged you,” Emyrith said in a low tone while handing me the aluminum walking tool, “But now would be best spent on focusing on the trial ahead.”

  I took the crutch and let up on the scowl. He looked tired. He sounded like it, too. It wasn’t just him. Elder Baek still hadn’t said a word, but I saw him reach out and give Mina a little pat on the head. And Councilor Valentine was sitting on a chair, nursing a steaming mug in her hand and looking twenty years older than the last time I’d seen her.

  Also, Valentine’s familiar had finally made its appearance.A floating mirror with a young girl trapped inside, pretending to slam on the glass and mouthing words to me.When I ignored her, I saw her panicked expression transform into a sinister smile out of my peripheral vision.

  God, nothing was fucking normal.

  “Come, Mr. Hallow, let’s get you warm while we can,” Emyrith insisted and led me to one of the campfires.

  Elder Baek led Mina to a different campfire.

  That was it. No food. No canopy to protect us from the snow. Just campfires and some logs to sit on.

  Maybe because of the image I had of Society, I had expected something different. A councilroom, perhaps, the type you see in movies where the main character has to testify in front of a whole room of stuffy people. They surround him, looking down at him from elevated podiums and chairs, screaming questions. People would be dressed in suits, and I’d see a plethora of familiars out and giving me new nightmares so that my hypothetical counselor could make bank.

  But this simplicity reminded me of who was actually in charge here: the Hudson Witch.

  Which brought my attention to her.

  She was only wearing that loose-fitting dress made out of gray cloth. It looked like one of those dresses that pregnant women wear: a moomoo dress. Except it looked homespun, and the wind blew right through it. The Witch paid the cold no mind, her eyes fixed on the Mother Tree.

  I saw why.

  “Emyrith,” I said, “What the hell…?”

  Emyrith looked at me with a flat gaze. “That,” he said, “is the Mother Tree, Mr. Hallow.”

  The Mother Tree seemed huge from up the hill. I’d been wrong. She was even bigger up close. She simply looked smaller from a distance because the great tree was hurt.

  The great tree leaned sideways, the middle of its trunk looking like it had been gouged out. Branches the size of the smaller trees I saw on the outskirts of the Old Forests were scattered all around us, like someone had taken the effort to break off each piece to do so. There were no burn marks nearby, ruling out lightning. Also, the branches weren't buried underneath the snow, lying on top instead. Meaning they were broken off after the blizzard. The wounds felt almost intentional.

  Worse, the Mother Tree’s Dryad was awake.

  She was huge, what you’d expect to see when the word for fictional ‘giants’ came to mind. She had to be at least twenty, maybe thirty feet tall. At that height, my sense of scale got a little wonky. The dryad —there had to be a different word for a dryad of her class— sat with her knees to the side, one hand supporting her weight. The other hand was clutched to the side of her stomach, trying to stem the wound which mirrored the tree’s.

  There were other small spirits. Not dryads. They looked like little kids with empty eye sockets and mushrooms for heads. They jumped around, making noise, blowing raspberries at each other, and playing a chasing game. I peered closer, seeing through the superimposed Mother Tree and focusing on the broken tree. Small mushrooms were growing on the fallen tree. That’s what these child spirits were: mushrooms.

  As I watched, one of the mushroom children ran up her back and scooted down her arm like it was a slide. As it did, the bark on her arm peeled and splintered off. The Mother Tree spirit winced in pain, but feigned a smile at the mushroom child that stared at her with its thumb in its mouth. After him, dozens of the other mushroom spirits began to do the same, hurting her with each ride.

  Greenish blood soaked the snow. They weren’t real, not in the material plane. But in the plane of existence where the preternaturals lived, her blood was every bit as real as the pain on her face. Some of the mushroom kids began to pick up broken pieces of her skin and using it as swords and shields. There weren’t enough, so a couple of them started to rip them off her skin.

  And I realized with growing horror that the mushrooms were slowly killing her.