Saturdays had classes too, but only until noon. I picked a seat among the crowd drowsily assembling in the wide main auditorium and settled down. For once, the hall was put to good use, with almost all the novice mages and apprentice fencers and general-ed students in attendance together. This one course was mandatory for every department in Belmesion, where the topic held special significance. After all, the subject of study loomed in plain view every day around the clock. Silently innocuous and at peace, just about outside conscious recognition, but ever present, concealing nameless menace within. The Wood.

  So tired.

  My aching eyes sought out Alice Silla's figure in the audience.

  I'd tailed her for the rest of the week to make sure she didn’t do anything exceptionally stupid and force me to blow her up. But she seemed to enjoy life too much to throw it away, or was too smart to throw it away despite enjoying it. Or, you don't suppose she was even now holding to her word, when she'd pledged to agree to my terms before hearing them? No, surely nobody could be that daft.

  Humans were heavily herd-based animals, and our class had recognized Silla as something of a leader of the pack, thanks to her noble bearing and academic performance. Who controlled the leader controlled the horde. Considering that, I'd planned to have her intervene in case anyone else got uppity later. But watching her closer these days, it began to seem she didn't have that kind of sway.

  Silla's authoritative air ended at the classroom door. You’d think someone so concerned about the safety of others would have more friends, but Silla met nobody outside lessons, spoke to no soul of her own volition, and all her days unfolded by the same pattern, studying, studying, or training.

  From the dormitory roof at night, I’d watch her be ignored by her roommates. Two of the four seemed like good friends, but maintained clear lines with the others. The third of the bunch, small Elisa Canth, was something of an in-betweener, trying very hard and talking to everybody, but her timid efforts rarely bore fruit. She noticed Silla’s sunken mood, but got bluntly brushed off and hadn't the courage to keep prying. That seemed to be their usual dynamic. Two friends and two loners. A room like Helium. It was too depressing to look at.

  Damn, I’m sleeping tonight, even if the sky comes crashing down.

  At eight, a shabby-looking male professor with a frizzy gray hairdo and square glasses drifted into the hall, closing the door after himself modestly by hand. His loose, washed-out robes hung on his tall, thin frame, airily fluttering like a fluid sort of cloud as he moved, and a silk muffler with a green-gray tile pattern coiled loose around his neck.

  He was one of those people who seemed born old, but was not decrepit by any means. I recognized him as the same professor who had awaited at the end of the Corridor of Sages, with the golem. Come to think of it, he never told me his name that day.

  The man took his post leaning on the podium with both hands and greeted us with a wide but chronically sleep-deprived smile. I could relate.

  “Good morning, everyone! My name is Professor Fawkes. On my own behalf as well, welcome to Belmesion! I have the honor to serve as our academy’s chief Arborist. Which means: that funny guy who stares at trees and talks to flowers all day! As such, for the following four hours, I will be giving you a very tight-packed introduction to our close neighbor—the Wood. The Scarlet Forest, as this specific woodland remnant extending across North Cyrria is collectively called.”

  Even humanity had its roots in the Wood, it was said.

  The Book of the Early Days, recorded from thousands of years of oral tradition, began with the following lines:

  All the land was once one great forest, Himawanta

  And man lived in the shadow of the deathless Elder Trees

  Unburdened by knowledge of Good or Evil

  Until the day came when the elves arrived

  The Machine Elves of Niebeleng;

  The lofty Empyreans in their ships of wrought silver

  The elves took and tamed the feral men

  Bestowed upon them the gift of Magic and Culture

  To wage war upon the Grand Wood together, and rule the world

  The Wood fought back, spawning many a vile beast; Hellions

  A scourge upon the enemies of the trees, driven by the earth's rage

  And the roots drank the blood of countless, the leaves dyed scarlet

  But not all men wished to see their old cradle burn

  Neither were all elves heartless and evil

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  And the many small creatures of the land had yet to choose a side

  The first King of Free Men, noble Edain

  Roused his enslaved kind to a rebellion

  Turning the gifts of the overlords against them

  Broken Sage L’brann forsook the streams of gore,

  and parleyed with Kenaccar, the Treelord,

  To give rise to a new faction of elves: the Silvan

  O’ wise T’rana, Mistress of Magic, and her Sky Order,

  Stilled the bitter blades of the Empyreans

  And brokered a grievous peace in the bleeding realm

  But Himawanta was no more

  The Great Wood scorched, slashed apart

  The children of the trees far scattered

  Beware the shade of the trees, son of man; for the trees, they never forget

  And as long as one small sapling survives under the Heavens

  There will be Hellions

  How much of the myth was true, who could say, but at least hellions were undeniably real. When people weren’t too busy fighting each other, they fought the monsters that the Wood spawned. If the forest developed a surplus of stock, the fiends spilled without and fell to harass the settlements on open land, and that was probably what inspired the Tarachians to start a farm.

  Which made this subject very familiar to me too.

  “There are forests out there, and then there's the Wood,” said Professor Fawkes. “Rather than so many dull plants growing wild and idle, the Wood is a magical collective of plant-based lifeforms, spirits, and demifiends. What an average person often fails to realize is, the trees are actual living beings, with a consciousness and will of their own. As such, Elder Trees—or True Trees—are even capable of using magic! Indeed. The trees create their own boundary field, known as ‘Domains,’ and wield magical energy to form their ideal environment to thrive in. Foreign visitors of any Domain may only either adapt to the terms of service, or else they may end up being treated as enemies to be purged.”

  A Domain was more than only a batch of special trees. It was like a slice of another reality with its own seasons and biome. Wandering deeper into the Wood, you could stumble into places where it was always night, or where the sun never set, or where days flowed by at irregular rates. Worst of all, the trees moved around. Trying to make maps of the interior of the forest was largely useless.

  “Trees don't have much defensive capability, slow as they are to move,” the professor continued, “and the extent to which they’re aware of their surroundings is very limited. Since they don’t have eyes as we do, or noses, or ears. But they're not stupid! They sense energies through their leaves, temperatures, humidity levels, and so forth, being even sharper in some ways than we are. But though they're slow to notice us smaller creatures, that doesn’t make them helpless, by any means. They’ve simply outsourced their protection: Elder Trees use magic to conjure specialized mana-based entities to defend themselves, like antibodies. Yes, that’s correct! The beings we commonly call hellions.”

  The man used an archaic crystal projector to conjure glowing images of various monsters to illustrate the lecture.

  Imps. Wolves. Giant apes. Drakes. Arachnids. Man-eating flowers…

  “What kind of hellions are summoned and how many depends on the nature of the perceived threat and the traits of the host tree that upholds the Domain. The international bestiary has collected records of over 60,000 types of hellions to date, and more are regularly added to the list. Thankfully, the trees cannot draw mana directly through specialized channels the way we mages can. They may only absorb it little by little through their roots, which function similarly to mana circuitry. Just, less effectively. Converting mana into matter is fortunately a very energy-heavy process and quickly outpaces the replenishment rate. When the mana reserve of a Domain is spent, they must refill it before they can make more beasts. And thank gods for that! Otherwise, there’d be precious little to prevent the world from being overrun by infinite hordes of bloodthirsty monsters. Hellion apocalypse!

  The auditorium was a mix of relieved and horrified reactions, everyone picturing 30-foot armored spiders running in the streets. Or a flood of drakes.

  “Still, if attacked, the Wood will continue to summon hellions without reservation until it has spent all the available mana, or the threat is neutralized. So, if you happen to place your axe badly, I recommend that you simply run away. Run, as fast as you can! Trying to outlast the forest by fighting it out isn't a very bright idea. Ah, you must be wondering why am I telling you this now.”

  The smile on the professor's pale face widened before he announced,

  “Because, come next week—you, our dear freshmen, will have your first survey into the Scarlet Forest! Haha!”

  A few students showed enthusiastic reactions; some already knew and barely reacted. But most of the audience took the news with mortification, soon to break into a concerto of laments. The professor let the students air out their feelings for a time before gesturing for silence.

  “Ancient forests are dangerous to the unaccustomed, yes. But they are also an invaluable resource and home to millions of fascinating, non-lethal animals and insects and plants. Modern medicine relies very heavily on ingredients that can only be found in the Wood. It's in our best interests to ensure that what's left of the Elder Trees are preserved and properly studied. Understood, not chopped down! Belmesion is at the forefront of this research, and it’s our humble mission to ensure the know-how is passed down. Don’t be too worried, all right! The Domains near the school are not so bad, and you’ll be cooperating with experienced older swordsmanship trainees and staff members while out there. The class A of each department will have their turn first, next week. Sword course, Monday; Magic course, Wednesday; General education students: Friday. Class B is scheduled for the week after that, and class C the week after…”

  I returned my gaze to the trees outside in the yard.

  They were only ordinary oaks in the school grounds, not magic trees. But my mind was elsewhere. Hellions were one thing, but there could be imperial guerrillas skulking in the bushes too. The Tarachians’ expertise at navigating the Wood was likely beyond that of anyone at the academy.

  Elder Trees were easily disturbed by offensive magic. They had poor experiences with it. Thousands of years had passed since the Empyrean war, but the knowledge of events too distant for mortal memory was preserved in the Wood, as if it happened only yesterday. If the enemy came after us in the forest, even I’d be in trouble. Well, I'd worry about that when it was time.

  Tomorrow, I had business in a more urban environment.