After Ba-Khet and Ficus finally reached the last stretch to Aurelia and passed through the first of two copper gates. A slick, muddy slope emerged, almost out of nowhere, in front of them, and from the top, the city’s three copper domes barely pushed through the thick fog. Ba-Khet stared at them and wondered what answers awaited them there, what the Sah really was, or what Ba-Khet even was. Beyond this hill lay the truth, or just more questions. Ficus came up behind it and set a hand on Ba-Khet's shoulder.

  “There it is, just beyond this hill, Aurelia in all its glory.” Ficus’s voice wavered, even though he tried to pose a false smile on his face. “Last time I was here, the whole place shook the hills themselves. Hard to believe it’s this quiet now.” He forced a laugh. “Home of pirates, if you ask me!”

  Ba-Khet didn’t respond. If anything, the joke only made the silence feel heavier.

  “Well, shall we proceed, lad?”

  Ba-Khet nodded. Together, they walked up the steep, slick slope. With each step, Aurelia loomed closer. There was a tall central dome, flanked by two smaller ones that were carved straight into the mountainside. Blue-and-white flags atop the three domes snapped weakly in the wind.

  As they proceeded up the hill, it became increasingly apparent that the city was placed in a peninsula, surrounded by water on almost all sides. A thick, unnatural fog seemed to have enveloped the city, while Ba-Khet was walking towards it. When they reached the summit, the view before them stopped the two dead in their tracks. Thousands of treants crowded the massive copper gate, moving in perfect formation through broad archways carved into Aurelia’s surrounding outer wall. They flocked into the city by the hundreds. They stretched out into the mist, covering all the land the eye could see. In the center of the looming archways was a main front gate, which in the middle displayed locked bars clearly closed. Ficus froze where he stood, stunned in disbelief. Ba-Khet reached out and tugged on his sleeve, “Is this supposed to happen, Ficus?”

  His voice climbed as his panic rose. “I need to know what happened here.”

  They walked through the narrow gaps the treants had made in between them. Looking up at the treants, they noticed they barely acknowledged their presence. Towering trunks swaying, roots thudding in a slow, heavy rhythm.

  “I’ve never seen them this quiet,” Ficus whispered, “or this many.”

  As Ficus and Ba-Khet walked through the crowd, their bodies scraping past the treant’s trunk-like bodies. The ground trembled. Another line of treants surged forward, nearly knocking over the dryad and his companion.

  “This is never closed,” Ficus muttered, pressing his palm to the cold metal of the gate.

  Ba-Khet leaned in, pushing its face through a narrow gap in the gate, searching for signs of life in the city that lay in the city that lay beyond. Ficus knelt beside Ba-Khet and unwrapped a long wool bundle that the Bah Keht had now just noticed they had been carrying with them. Inside was a copper blade etched with eldritch patterns. Ba-Khet jolted back as Ficus gripped the blade by its handle.

  “Calm down, lad,” Ficus said reassuringly. “It’s just the key to the city,” Ficus says while examining it in his hands, “people would kill to get their hands on one of these. I never thought I’d actually need to use it,” Ficus sighed.

  He fitted the blade into the slit at the top of a vine-wrapped copper pole and twisted. The mechanism didn’t budge. He tried again, muscles straining, metal shrieking against the blade.

  “It’s not working,” Ficus grunted, planting a foot on the pole for leverage and twisting it one last time. A sharp crack split the air. The blade snapped in half, and the broken end still jammed deep inside the mechanism. Ficus’s temper flared. He slammed the remaining piece against the gate in frustration.

  “Let us in, do you hear me, let us in!” His shout echoed through the fog, and the treants did not react in the slightest.

  After a long moment of silence, a frail, ancient voice responded from the other side of the gate, “Who goes there?” A silhouette emerged, hunched, clinging to a flagpole for support.

  “It’s me, Ficus, I bring goods and request entry!” he called.

  “The city of Aurelia is closed to everyone but the treants,” the figure replied, voice flat and seemingly rehearsed.

  “This is impossible!” Ficus barked. “You cannot close a city, under what terms?”

  “Under the decree of the Aurelian rule. The only thing that's getting in here is Treants.”

  “Even to traders and travellers seeking asylum?” Ficus’ hands trembled slightly.

  “Under the decree of Aurelian rule…”

  “What about the fields? The workers? The animals?” he shouted. “Where are they?! I know the city would never shut down for no reason! Reveal yourself!” He shook the gate in fury.

  The silhouette recoiled into the fog. Ficus pressed his forehead against the gate’s bars in defeat. Lightning cracked overhead, and for a split second, the horizon became visible through the fog. Rain then followed shortly after, heavy and sudden.

  Guards emerged along the treant archways, bows drawn, silhouettes tense above. Ficus stepped away slightly examining the archers. Ficus doubled back, shoulder brushing Ba-Khet’s, facing in opposite directions and whispered, “Don’t look at me. Look ahead.” Ba-Khet froze like a statue, its gaze following along the line of archers. “They’re listening,” Ficus says, calm and collected.

  Ficus began to walk ahead into the horde of treants in front of him. Ba-Khet turned around to see him, not sure if it should follow. Ba-Khet had a deep guttural feeling that something unnatural was going to occur. Ba-Khet started to hyperventilate; the feeling of being alone again pressured it to go beyond its better judgment and run after Ficus into the sea of treants.

  The mud splattered with each step that Ba-Khet made. The rain drenched it as all it could see was treant after treant, but no Ficus. Ba-Khet felt like it had been walking in the swarm for what felt like hours. It did not know which way it was going anymore. It was lost, it was cold, it was scared. Ficus was nowhere in sight. Suddenly, something snatched Ba-Khet by its collar, dragging it out of the dense cluster of treants. Ba-Khet turned around to see that it was Ficus.

  “I knew you’d find me,” Ba-Khet gasped, mud streaked across its face.

  “I never lost sight of you,” Ficus said, as he gripped its shoulders. “Now, for this to work, you have to trust me. Do you trust me?”

  Ba-Khet nodded, slow and uncertain.

  “Good lad. Stay close.”

  Together they retreated down the hill, plunging back into the forest. Darkness had fully claimed the world as the sun set just beyond the mountain. Only the cold, pale moonlight cut narrow streams of light across the forest floor. Ficus shoved Ba-Khet in front of a large tree.

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  “Stay still. This won’t hurt a bit,” he said.

  Ba-Khet obeyed, tense, water dripping from its hair and tattered clothes. Ficus used vines to tie it up, tangling and looping the vine around Ba-Khet’s waist. Ficus threw the last bit of vine over a tree branch before tying a rock to the vine and hoisting Ba-Khet up. It saw the ground beneath it grow more distant as water droplets formed at its toes. Ficus then secured the vine to a nearby stone, anchoring it to the ground.

  “Don’t move. It’ll all be over soon.” Ficus said with a concerningly sinister tone that Ba-Khet hadn’t yet seen from Ficus.

  Fear crawled up Ba-Khets' spine, twisting into something deeper and primal. Ficus gathered dry branches, stacking them beneath Ba-Khet’s dangling feet. Ficus struck two flint stones twice, they seemed to glow and pulsate. Green sparks caught the dry wood, and flames roared to life. Heat pressed upward, suffocating Ba-Khet in rolling waves of heat and smoke. Ficus’s voice split the storm, wild, echoing, clapping against the thunder.

  “Dinner is ready, come and get it!” Ficus screamed into the darkness of the forest.

  Ba-Khet’s stomach dropped. Ba-Khet now knew the nature of Ficus’s plan. It was bait.

  Just then, twigs snapped in the distance.

  “Could it be Ficus?” Ba-Khet thought to itself. The twig snapping drew closer, and a silhouette appeared in the trees, but it was not Ficus. It was too tall and too wide. It was a treant, a big one. The ground started to quake around it. It was a familiar quake. Ba-Khet could feel its insides tremble. The treant approached closer but went just beyond Ba-Khet's field of vision. Ba-Khet clenched its fist and bit its lip, trying to steady itself, but its mind kept stirring. Suddenly, a slow groaning noise rumbled through Ba-Khet's right ear. Ba-Khet was pinned to the tree and could not turn its head to see the beast, but knew it was there. It could feel the eye of that thing, watching it, waiting for a reaction. The treant then walked over to the front of Ba-Khet's line of sight, seeming to be analyzing it with intense intrigue. The treant made intense eye contact, almost at perfectly equal eye level with Ba-Khet. Ba-Khet tried to look away, but the treant’s giant, single eye mesmerized it. There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Not even the forest around them made a noise.

  Just then, a spiked pole drove through the treant’s back. The creature shrieked, convulsing violently. One of the treant’s branches hit Ba-Khet in the stomach. Ficus dropped from the branches above, sliding down its front, slamming the jagged bladekey into the eye, twisting with all his strength. Milky sap sprayed across the clearing, raining down on mud and foliage. The treant thrashed; its limbs struck the burning wood below, snuffing the fire out. Ficus tumbled, rolled, grabbed a long vine, and darted beneath the flailing limbs, looping, weaving, binding. With a desperate pull, the treant’s legs were pulled into themselves like a bundle of twigs, throwing the beast off balance. The thrashing died down, slowly.

  Ficus looked back up at Ba-Khets' dangling mass, whipping sweat and sap from his face. “Need some help up there?” He weakly joked as he cut the vine, freeing Ba-Khet.

  Ba-Khet fell into the mud. It got to its feet shakily and patted the mud off its pants before staring straight at Ficus with a murderous look on its face. “I’m going to kill you, you bastard!”

  Ba-Khet lunged, grabbing Ficus by the collar, tackling him to the ground.

  “Ba-Khet, stop! I saved your life!” Ficus gasped, kicking Ba-Khet off and leveling the jagged bladekey at Ba-Khet before it could rise. “Treants follow scent and rhythm, correct? Copy both, and we move through the gates unseen. All we needed was a disguise!”

  “You used me as bait!” Ba-Khet screeched, chest heaving, mud streaked across its face.

  “I didn’t think you’d go through with it if I told you,” Ficus shot back, “Look, we needed a way in, and I found one.”

  A long, awkward silence stretched between them.

  “Look,” Ficus softened, voice low, almost fragile. “Help me get inside. After that, you won’t have to see me again.” He extended a hand. Ba-Khet stared, heart hammering, breath ragged. Moments stretched. Slowly, it grasped the hand, Ficus hoisting it to its feet.

  “Well then,” Ficus grinned, shaking Ba-Khet’s hand heartily, “Seems we agree.”

  Ficus dropped to his knees beside the treant’s massive body, the broken key gripped like a crude scalpel. Ba-Khet noticed his eyes showed a look of pure disgust before he pried off the treant’s bark and pressed into its fleshy underbelly, sawing through. As the meat split, warm, thick, white sappy pus welled up, spilling in heavy ropes, hissing as it hit the wet earth. The smell hit instantly, a rotting stench followed after. When the bottom section finally fell aside, fluid flooded the mud beneath them, puddling at Ficus’s knees. Ficus plunged his hand inside blindly. Something warm squirmed against his fingers. He pulled fast, a tangle of blood vessels, slick and knotted upon themselves, dangled from his fist. They curled and uncurled slowly like dying worms before going still. The sight alone made Ficus wipe his hand in the mud, but the blood vessels stuck stubbornly to his skin. Gritting his teeth, he plunged back in. His fingers closed around a rounded shape lodged against the inner wall. When he yanked it free, the organ exhaled a brown, powder-fine mist that coated his cheeks and clung to his eyelashes. The taste was bitter and chemical, forcing his eyes to water.

  Ba-Khet decided to kneel beside Ficus to assist him. Together, they dug deeper, and Ba-Khet’s hand landed on a long, muscular tract, warm, sticky, and unwilling to come loose. When Ba-Khet pulled, the entire length peeled away from the treant’s body with a wet rip, stretching far longer than expected before slapping onto the ground in a heap. Next came a massive organ swollen to the size of Ba-Khet’s torso. The liver, dense and rigid, was so large that they had to slice through it in thick, heavy slabs. Each cut released a syrupy black fluid that smelled of ammonia. The grinding resistance of the tissue made Ba-Khet’s stomach turn. They removed whatever remained—sheets of muscle, brittle veins, pockets of dark sap, until Ficus’s hand found the last thing still beating. The heart, knotted with hardened roots, pulsed faintly in his grip. He yanked it free, and for a moment, the treant’s body went rigid, then everything slackened. The entire corpse began to collapse inward, losing structure, sinking as the remaining fluids drained out. The treant deflated around them like a punctured husk.

  By the time Ficus and Ba-Khet were done, the body was entirely hollowed out except for the mangled eyeball placed in the eye socket, a mere husk of its former self. “One more thing,” said Ficus. Ba-Khet looked up at Ficus. “If they have proundogs, little four-legged beasts, they will surely smell us within the carcass.”

  “And that means…?” Inquired Ba-Khet.

  “That means that we have to cover our scent, Ba-Khet,” Ficus then held up the discarded bladder of the treant. Ficus then proceeded to slit open the bladder with the jagged gate key and squirt warm treant urine onto Ba-Khet.

  “This is horrific!” Ba-Khet’s disgust returned.

  “Hold still, almost done,” Ficus said while squeezing the bladder. “Ok, now my turn,” Ficus then turned the bladder around and squirted it on himself.

  Both Ficus and Ba-Khet were now covered in a combination of treant urine and blood, giving off a horrid smell. “It got into my mouth, Ficus,” Ba-Khet stammered.

  They rubbed the foul fluid over themselves, slick and burning in the cold air. Ba-Khet climbed onto Ficus’s shoulders, sliding into the treant’s hollowed shell. Through a narrow crack near the eye, Aurelia’s copper domes glimmered faintly beyond the trees. Ficus and Ba-Khet pushed beyond the hill, catching up to the herd of treants in neat rows.

  “Stay steady,” Ficus whispered. “Move like the rest, one wrong step and…” His words faded into the herd's rhythm.

  The treants pressed around them, groaning, swaying, their massive limbs dragging through the mud in perfect unison. Ba-Khet’s chest hammered; the hollow walls pressed tight against its back.

  “Breathe, match the rhythm, stay inside…” Ficus murmured to himself, the words more prayer than instruction.

  Lanterns flickered across the fog. The faint light hit Ba-Khet’s eyes. A faint pulse of hope spread through Ba-Khet. Minutes, maybe hours passed; time blurred. Only the synchronized march mattered. The herd creaked and shuffled into the courtyard. Warm light spilled across the wet stone. Ba-Khet’s heart lifted.

  “Remember,” Ficus said, low and tense. “Guards are watching, don’t flinch.” Ba-Khet nodded; sweat mixed with mud plastered hair on its face. Every step on Ficus’s shoulders jarred its body as the treant limbs scraped past, rubbing and nudging against their disguise.

  “Are we close?” Ficus grunted, breath ragged, muscles screaming under the weight.

  “We’re almost there,” Ba-Khet replied, gripping the hollowed walls, teeth clenched, balance fraying. Finally, the archway loomed above. They passed under it.

  “We’re in,” Ba-Khet breathed, a rush of disbelief and relief washing over it, soaked in mud, piss, fear, and still trembling. They were at the mercy of the treant herd. Where would it take them; neither of them wanted to find out.