bekern

The Faded Kingdom – Chapter 10

[Note: I start my summer schedule this week, so I’ll be catching up on illustrations. Thanks for your patience!]

As the Human moved deeper into the forest, the trees grew closer together, but not as tall or straight as before. Their branches intertwined, as did their roots, creating the appearance of an immense, many-trunked organism. The sky was completely blocked, and the Human was grateful for the glow that made its way from the crystal through the turtle shell. The Human stopped short. There had been movement out among the trees. Peering, the Human saw lights dancing about through the woods and heard faint strains of distant singing. Having heard enough stories about what happened to travelers who followed fairy lights, the Human remained on the trail and continued on.

The trail made a sharp turn and abruptly opened up onto a clearing. Unlike the one with the great tree, however, this area of the forest was not soft and green. It was dark and full of stones. Standing in the center was a small house. At first it seemed to be a normal cottage, but its shape seemed to twist and none of the corners were true. And every time the Human looked, it seemed have subtly altered those corners. It felt like part of the cottage was always just out of sight. Drawing closer, the Human saw that what had at first appeared to be piles of firewood were in fact crouching legs. The cottage could walk! The Human had heard of such places back in the Present, and had heard many stories of those who dwelt within. A Witch with such a home would have great power, but would also be extremely dangerous. She would be as likely to destroy the Human as help, and would want a high price for any aid. Standing straight, the Human gathered what courage was available and approached the door.

The door whispered open as the Human raised a hand to knock. The doorway was pitch black. The forest had gone completely silent and a breeze, the first the Human had felt in this land, pushed from behind, urging the Human to enter.

“If you’re going to disturb me, it’s rude to be slow about it,” muttered a low voice from the dark. “It is foolish to waste a Witch’s time,” it continued. The Human stepped forward.

In a sudden blink, the dark of the doorway disappeared, and the Human was now standing in the center of a foyer. The cozy entrance room had doors leading off into several directions, including back the way the Human had come. That door, though, was closed tightly, although the Human had not closed the door when entering. Looking around, the Human saw four doors. No, three. No, five. As soon as a door would pass out of the Human’s sight, it could change location, appearance, and size, or disappear altogether. The Human turned with a start as a door to the right, a wooden one coated in worn red paint, opened and a voice called out.

“Wipe your feet and come in,” it called. The Human looked down and a doormat had appeared in front of the red door. Carefully wiping off the dust of the road, the Human entered.

This room was a small library. Shelves of books lined each of the four, no, five, no… never mind, walls. In the center of the room was a small pit in the floor where a fire shimmered. It flickered faster than fires in the Present, and while it was primarily red, yellow and orange, other colors appeared for brief flashes. It gave off an appealing warmth. Over the fire, a tripod held a kettle that was just starting to boil. Next to the fire was a pile of cushions of many colors and styles. Seated cross-legged in the pile was the Witch.

“Have a seat,” the Witch said, nodding to a cushioned stool that had appeared behind the Human. The door the Human had used to enter the room seemed to have vanished. The Human sat.

“Thank you for…,” the Human began.

“How do you take your tea?” interrupted the Witch. “I have quite a variety of options,” the Witch gestured to a wooden box on the Human’s lap. Its lid was ajar, revealing a dozen or more small glass jars with dried leaves of every color, as well as some items that the Human did not recognize. Was that a beetle? The Human found one that appeared to be regular black tea and handed it over to the Witch.

“Sugar? Honey? Lemon? Aether? Ichor?” the Witch cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Um. Plain is fine,” murmured the Human. The Witch gestured, and the Human found that the box had been replaced with a fine porcelain saucer and handleless cup. Both were painted in delicate lines that seemed to have meaning, although they did not have the look of words. In response to another of the Witch’s gestures, hot, black tea appeared in the cup. The Human quickly took hold of the saucer to avoid spilling the cup’s contents. The aroma was intoxicating. Floral, but deep and warm. The Human tried to hide a cautious sniff to see if this was actually tea, but the small smile on the Witch’s face made it clear this attempt was unsuccessful. The Witch raised a similar cup filled with a deep red liquid that glowed slightly, and took a sip. The Human did the same with the tea. It was, quite simply, the best tea the Human had ever had.

“So. You are my guest. I have served you tea. Do your people follow the rules of hospitality? Do you know what this means?” asked the Witch, taking another sip. The cup now contained a crystalline blue liquid that gave off small sparks.

“Yes, I do. Thank you,” answered the Human, bowing slightly. “I must say this is not the reception I expected.”

“I’m sure. I’ve no intent to open an teahouse. The spooky door thing does help keep away traveling salesmen, though,” the Witch chuckled.

“You are not what I expected, either,” ventured the Human.

“You expected something more along the lines of ancient and evil crone? Maybe with a bad eye and lots of warts? Bones in her hair and fewer teeth than fingers, and not a full set of those, either?” the Witch asked with a raised brow.

“Well, the stories,” began the Human.

“Psh!” the Witch waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t speak to me of stories. Tell me how you see me.”

The Human started to reply, and then stopped, unsure of what to say.

“Let me guess, I’m not fitting into any convenient descriptors, right?” prompted the Witch.

“I…” started the Human before giving up. The Witch wore a robe of shifting deep reds and purples, with tiny bones stitched into the fabric, making intricate, whirling patterns, belted with what appeared to be a living vine that reached out tendrils to grasp nearby objects. The Witch was neither old, nor young. Neither light, nor dark. Neither female, nor male. The Witch was not simply in between these extremes, but rather seemed to be shifting along each continuum from one moment to the next.

“You should know that my appearance is just what you can perceive of my nature. How many doors did you see in the foyer?” The Human took a second to follow the shift in topic.

“I am not sure. At first I thought four, but…”

“My house is not fully in this realm, and neither am I. We are a matched pair,” the Witch patted the floor affectionately, “and we have been together for a very, very long time. I am not from this place any more than you are, but I am not from the Present. I extend through all realms and all places. I know your people, but many other peoples consider me to be their own. Your people fear me, and for good reason. I am not to be challenged or annoyed.” The Witch’s eyes became very dark at that last, and the room dimmed although the fire seemed very bright. The Witch sat back into the cushions, appearing calm once more and the room brightened. “I want to hear why you have come to me. I want to hear what you seek.”

“I seek my family. My love and our children. They were lost to me and I am trying to find them.”

“And then what? Throw yourself into Oblivion? Do you wish me to help you destroy yourself?”

“No. I wish for them to remember me and themselves. I want them back. Back as I knew them.”

The Witch shook their head sadly. “That will not be possible. They cannot return to the Present. Neither can you, at this point. Your Moment is long gone.”

“I understand that.”

The Witch leaned forward, leaning their chin on their hand, elbow resting on their knee. “Then what, pray tell, do you want from me?”

“I met a man on the path through the forest. He said you knew how to help my family remember. To regain their true selves and avoid Oblivion.”

“Ah. I see. He told the truth. I extend through time, and can see many paths. I can tell you how to return your family’s minds. I even know how to return them to a semblance of solidity, such as you possess. But, what are you willing to pay me for this knowledge? Is it not customary to pay for such a valuable bit of assistance?” The Witch’s smile had become uncomfortably wide, with a predatory edge. “Keep in mind that I have all that I desire. My home is infinite and I can create what I need. What could a temporary thing like you offer me?”

“I have my walking stick. The great tree said it had power, and it did protect me in the Dark. I have this container given to me by Turtle. It is sturdy and holds more than it appears to. I have these,” the Human took the crystal and mirror from the container, “from the Rock King and the Water Mother. That is all I possess.”

The Witch was suddenly sitting very close to the Human, and leaned in close. Their breath was alternately hot and cold, and the Human saw that the pupils of their eyes were not solid black, but appeared to have tiny lights within them. Lights seemed very far away, like stars.

“Oh, you have much more than that. True, these things have power. That wood is as ancient as I, and nothing evil can bear its touch. Anything placed in that container can never be stolen from you, no matter how deft the thief. That crystal will ever light your way. The mirror, ah, I’ll leave that for you to discover.” The Witch covered the mirror with their palm and placed it back in the container, along with the crystal. “I have marvels that put them all to shame. No, what you have to trade is something unique to yourself. Something I cannot create or call to me.” The Witch reached out a finger and touched the center of the Human’s brow. “You have a soul. Love. Memories. Stories. All unique to you. As brief as you are, you have something I cannot steal, any more than I could take that container from your shoulder. But, if you trade them willingly, then I could possess them.” The Witch licked their lips lightly and sat back, sighing lightly. “What will you trade? What is worth the souls of those you love?”

The Human sat for a long moment, considering. “I can tell you a story.”

“A story. Why would a story be worth what I can give you? You lose nothing in the telling, so it hardly seems fair.”

“You would lose nothing by telling me how to help my family, so I would argue we would be even,” answered the Human, too quickly to have considered the consequences of contradicting the Witch. The room went deathly silent. The fire no longer moved, and the steam from the teacups froze in midair. The Witch’s hair was the only thing that moved. It rose as if in a wind, now long and dark threaded with black. The Witch rose, still cross-legged, a few feet into the air and all the light in the room seemed to pull away from the two of them.

“You seek to haggle for the souls of your family?” asked the Witch is a voice that was barely audible, but yet resonated with great power. The Human nodded slowly, gripping the walking stick tightly and hoping that it might help protect against this being. The moment held for an impossibly long time. Then, suddenly, the room lightened, the fire resumed its dance with a burst of color, and the tea steamed warmly. The Witch settled back on the cushions and threw back their head in gales of laughter. The books on the shelves vibrated, and the Human had to clutch at the teacup to keep it from bouncing onto the floor.

“You know the value of stories, and I like your refusal to sell them cheaply!” laughed the Witch. “It has been many ages since someone thought to strike a truly fair bargain with me. Most cower and offer all that they have or try to swindle me. The first get the deal the offer, while the others,” the Witch’s smile was sharp, “they get a deal of my choosing. You, however, are honest, both in your intentions and in your assessment of your worth. We have a deal. Mind you, the story must be of great value to you.”

“It is. It is the story of how I found my love.”

“Ooh! I do enjoy a romance.” The Witch was now quite young and had curled into the cushions like a child ready for a nap. “Tell me your story.”

The Faded Kingdom – Chapter 9

Note: still working on getting caught up on illustrations. They’ll be back soon!

The Human walked for a short while, and there, winding among the great trees, was a small trail. It looked to be the sort left by animals, rather than by the feet of people. The tree boughs closed over top of the trail, blocking out even more light than was visible on the path. It did not have an ominous feeling, though, but rather one of quiet contemplation. The Human left the path and headed into the dim light.

The trail wound around the trees and the entrance from the path was soon out of sight. The Human was surprised when the trail opened up into a clearing suddenly. There was no sign of a Witch, but instead an immense tree stood in the center of the clearing. Its branches created a huge domed, arched roof above the clear area, creating the feel of a sacred space. The hush of the forest was broken her by the creak of the great bows and the murmur of a breeze that could be heard, but not felt. It seemed brighter here, but the sky did not appear to be any brighter. Instead, the leaves above seemed to radiate a warm, green light. It was dim, but with so many thousands of leaves over head, the clearing glowed. The ground was covered in soft, thick moss, and the Human found that each step sunk in a bit as the moss gave way slightly. Assuming that the trail resumed on the other side of the clearing, the Human made to walk around the grand tree, when a voice rumbled out.

“Greetings traveler,” it said. The voice was so deep as to be more felt than heard. It came from above, but resonated through the very ground. The Human stopped and looked around for the source. “Look up, little one,” said the voice warmly. There was a chuckle that vibrated from the earth up to the Human’s knees. Looking up into the canopy, the Human saw what appeared to be a face in the bark of the great tree.

“Hello,” replied the Human, bowing and hoping the bow would conceal the look of surprise. The Human had heard of forest spirits, but they were more like those beings at the river, personifications of their environment. This was something new to the Human. Even more surprising was that the tree rose up a bit on its roots, the ground around it rippling under the moss, and turned towards the Human. With a great rustling sound, the tree drew down two of its limbs and made a courtly bow in return.

“Very pleased to meet you,” said the tree. “Are you looking for the Witch? Few come this way, and they all seem to be seeking the Witch’s aid.”

“I am,” replied the Human. “This is the right way, then?”

“It is. If I may be so rude as to ask, why do you seek the Witch?” the tree asked. The Human recounted the usual tale of death, grief, and struggle, ending with the advice of the Tinker to seek the Witch. The tree looked more and more concerned and sad as the tale progressed. The smaller branches and leaves drooped, and the tree sank down further onto its roots.

“Oh my. You are the one I felt. I am part of all forests and woods and all of them are part of me. The trees near your home shivered with your grief and the echoes of your travels have reached me through my children who have lined your path. There is a gap in what I could perceive, though. That must have been when you traveled through the mountain. To have braved such darkness,” the tree shivered at the thought. “Do you truly believe the Witch can help you, or do you seek out of desperation?”

“I must believe there is some way of returning my family to me. Otherwise, I shall consign myself to Oblivion with them. There is nothing else for me.”

“Ah, do not say such things,” said the tree as a wind sighed through its branches. “Do not see death and forgetfulness as your only options. There is always hope and always a way forward. Your grief may have pulled you here, but this is not a terrible place to leave grief behind. All things fade into the Past, after all, even our pain. Everything with a beginning has an end, even pain as great as yours. Come, child, sit by me and rest. Put down your burden and think carefully about your choice.” A root flexed under the moss, rising up to create a soft seat that was just right for a tired Human. The Human gratefully sat, laying down the turtle-shell container and the walking stick. As the stick came to rest on the ground, the tree shivered.

“Oh. It has been so long. To think that such a thing still exists… Perhaps some things truly are eternal,” murmured the tree. “Where did you get that?”

“The Fae Queen gave it to me shortly after I arrived here,” answered the Human quietly. The Human had not rested since arriving in this realm, and the quiet, rustling air, the comfort of a soft place to rest, the dim glow of the leaves, all of this was easing the weariness of the Human’s body and soul.

“Ah. It came from a very old tree, did it not?” asked the tree. The Human nodded sleepily.

“Was that one of your children?” the Human asked.

“A cousin, would be a better term. The child of my sibling. I am the echo of all the trees that ever grew in your realm. I am very old. There is another, though. Some call it Yggdrasil, or the World Tree. It holds the realms together and keeps them apart. It is the end and the beginning of many things. My sibling, but much, much older. That stick is a piece of it. It holds great power. I wonder how it came to fall?” mused the tree. “So, little one. Do not sleep. You have not the time, or you will lose your chance to find your family. But instead, think on this: what is gained if you throw yourself into Oblivion? All things end, even suffering, but that place is not a way to end your suffering early. Do not seek Oblivion. Rather, seek hope and do not relinquish your hold on yourself. You do not owe your family the death of all that they loved in you. Keep that alive. For them.”

“I fear I cannot bear the pain of losing them,” answered the Human, sitting more upright. “I have nothing without them.” The tree chuckled again, not unkindly.

“Oh, to be so young. Full of life, but blinded by fear. Those who shared your life loved you, Human. You are still what they loved. You have everything without them, just as you had it with them. You are a piece of eternity itself, and the pain you feel is part of that eternity. To seek Oblivion is to deny the very love you seek. Have you known pain in the past?” asked the tree. The Human thought of the time before knowing love and nodded.

“I was lonely and frightened for a long time before I met my love,” the Human answered. “Now that my family is gone, all I feel is that fear and pain, all the stronger this time, because I have known its absence.”

“So your pain was ended by love. Why do you think it will be different this time? Even if you do not return your family to you, love is not gone from the world. You still carry the love you felt for them and they for you. You can still find love in the world. Look around you. This is place of wonder and beauty. True, there is peril. And no small amount of pain, but that is so very much more than what awaits in Oblivion. Remember that. Mourning those who you have lost does them honor. Forgetting yourself does not. It denies their existence. After all, once you are gone, who will still love your family?”

The Human sat silent for a long moment, unable to answer that question. To enter Oblivion would be an end to pain, but to lose love, too? That seemed a great price. Tears streamed down the Human’s face.

“Thank you for your wisdom and kindness,” said the Human, looking up into the tree’s wizened face. “I had forgotten much when I came to this place, and you have helped me to remember. My love would scold me endlessly for my dark thoughts,” the Human laughed quietly. “If I lose myself, I lose all that is left of them. I shall still try to return them to me, but I won’t enter Oblivion if I am unable to bring them back to themselves.”

The tree reached several limbs down and scooped the Human up to eye level. It used a leaf to brush the tears from the Human’s cheeks. After searching the Human’s face for a moment, the tree broke into a wide smile.

“I see that you speak truly. The darkness I saw in you has receded. Be wary of its return. I shall keep my eye on you as you travel. Wherever one of my children stands, I will be there with you. If you need to remember your strength, just rest a bit with me, and I shall remind you.”

The Human gripped the nearest branch and squeezed tight.

“Thank you. I owe you much,” said the Human.

“Do not think of ‘owing’. I have merely reminded you of something you already knew. Kindness towards all things is the basis of happiness. I am merely showing kindness to the piece of myself I see in you and in all things.” The tree returned the Human to the ground at the spot where the trail left the clearing and stood tall once more. “Now, go see the Witch. My old friend the Tinker is correct, the Witch may well hold the secret to helping your family remember themselves. May light guide your way.” The tree bowed low again. The Human returned the gesture and then headed down the path towards the Witch.

The Faded Kingdom – Chapter 8

Note: No illustration on this chapter yet. The switch from the spring semester to the summer has thrown me off. I hope to have a more productive schedule soon.

The Human continued down the path, distracted and a bit disturbed. The water spirits had awoken something in the Human’s heart that had been long dormant. Temptation.

The Human thought back to a time before marriage and family. To a time when responsibilities were frightening and seemed to spell the end of freedom. Back then, the Human had been very scared. None of the proscribed paths had seemed right. Staying in the same small town forever, conforming to the roles set out had seemed both easy and terribly hard. When one is born one way, but expected to be something else, the conflict can be daunting. There had been one particular person in the village who had seemed to desire the Human. It was a hungry, possessive desire, but it had been preferable to the loneliness that had otherwise prevailed. Those around the Human had approved of this one. It had been tempting to go along with what was expected and to be desired, while not the same as being loved, was not so terrible, was it? Choosing loneliness had been terrifically hard. No one, not even the Human’s family, had understood why the Human had chosen to refuse that one. It had been the beginning of a slow pulling-away, the Human gradually withdrawing from society, and from its expectations. It had seemed the better option compared to continually disappointing the expectations of family and friends. The Human had not, at that time, understood why that life had not appealed. That understanding came later. As the Human spent more and more time alone and hidden from the world, still that one had persisted. And there was great temptation. To hide away in a mask that was pleasing to the eye. To appear to be what was expected and desired. To eventually, just maybe, to become something that could exist in the world safely and with acceptance. To leave behind one’s true self and die in order to live the life that one was meant for. That temptation had been so very strong. And now, an echo of it had returned. True, the water spirits would have likely devoured the Human, metaphorically if not literally, but it would be a pleasant end. Desired, even if not for one’s true self. And an end to pain and loneliness had its appeal. But that would mean abandoning love and the Human’s truest self. Neker and Nixe had each wanted one part of the Human’s nature, just as that one so long ago. Neither of them, nor that old suitor, could see the whole of the Human and love it for what it was. That required love. And the love that the Human had eventually found had been sweet and pure. The Human stopped in the middle of the path and turned to look at the darkening sky. This path had been so long, and so much time had passed. Were the Human’s love and family still ahead, or had they been swallowed by Oblivion? There was no way to tell. The Human took a deep breath and continued on.

After a time, the Human saw something ahead that seemed shockingly out of place. It was an old, battered cart, made of silvered wood worn smooth by time. It was at an awkward angle, with one rear wheel off the path and snagged on a tree’s root. The Human hadn’t seen anything human-made since leaving home so long ago. This cart seemed unusually solid, as well. It lacked the wispy aspect the Human’s house had had. Drawing closer, the Human saw that an old donkey was hitched to the cart, and the load the cart was carrying was a towering pile of miscellaneous objects. Pots and pans, candlesticks and irons, chairs of various styles, scroll cases, rolls of cloth, dolls and other toys were all stacked on on the other in a precarious pile that should have tumbled down at the slightest touch.

“Why hello there!” said a voice from behind the Human’s shoulder. The Human jumped, startled, and turned to face a wizened old man. His light brown face was deeply wrinkled in a pattern that spoke of many smiles.

“Oh! Hello Grandfather!” said the Human, hurriedly bowing. “I did not see you there. This is your cart, I assume?”

“Yes, it is! And it carries my livelihood. I travel place to place, repairing pots and pans, selling odds and ends, trading for interesting things and carrying news of far-flung lands. I am called Tinker, Trader, Wanderer, and Merchant. Grandfather is not a new name for me, and I find I like it, even if it is not entirely accurate,” the old man said, winking at the last with a conspiratorial nod. “So, why’re ye traveling this lonely road?”

“I am seeking my family. They passed from me and in my grief I followed them here. I hope to be reunited with them before they reach Oblivion.”

“Oblivion! Terrible place. Lousy business to be done there, no doubt. I think I saw yer family not too terribly long ago. I passed them and then, once I had gotten stuck, no thanks to my friend here,” the old man slapped the rump of the donkey, who ignored him, “they passed me in turn.”

“How long ago was this?” asked the Human, excitedly.

“Hmm. That there is a more complicated question than ye might know. Ye know where we are, don’cha?”

“The Faded Kindom, the Past,” answered the Human.

“Right, but do ye understand what that means?”

“This is where everything goes after its Moment has passed, at least that is what I was told.”

“Hm. Sounds like ye’ve been talking to that old Turtle, eh?” asked the man. The Human nodded. “Well, it’s not inaccurate, just incomplete. Ye see, the Past is both eternal and momentary. This,” he gestured to indicate the entire realm, “is both an instant and an eternity. Time doesn’t pass, and yet it passes constantly. How long have ye been walking?”

“I am unsure,” answered the Human. “It seems like a very long time, but I am not physically tired, nor am I hungry or thirsty. The sky has changed, but only by what would have been a few hours in the Present.”

“Ah, that’s the crux of it. Here, time is more like distance. Ye’ve been traveling further into the Past, as ye move towards Sunset. And yet, ye will never catch the sun, the light will fade as ye go. Where did ye enter this realm?”

“Near the Fae, if that helps. On the other side of the mountain from here, past the Turtle.”

“Ah, the Fae. Still holding ‘Court’, I assume? Blessed children,” the old man shook his head fondly. “So there, it was still fairly light, but here, it has become quite dim. Oblivion is the darkest black. So, what we have to figure is how fast yer family is traveling and how fast ye’ve been going as well…,” the old man stroked his beard thoughtfully. “How long before ye came here did yer family pass?”

“Two weeks,” answered the Human.

“Based on when they passed me, ye’re gaining on them, but not as fast as all that. Ye’ll catch them before they reach Oblivion, at this rate, but only just. Keep moving, and don’t give up. Ye’ll be in time. Now, it’s been awhile since I did any proper business. That lot,” he pointed back towards the river crossing, “only buy trinkets, when they buy at all. All they want to trade are songs. That one little green fella will do just about anything for a cucumber though,” the old man chuckled. “So, is there anything ye’d be wanting to trade? Name it, and I likely have it in my cart.”

“I have no money, though, sir,” said the Human. “I came here with nothing, and I have very little to trade.”

“Ah, but ye’re solid, and stronger than most around here. Perhaps ye can work for it! I haven’t been able to shift my cart back onto the path by myself, and if ye help me get on my way, that would be of great worth to me. I can’t earn a living standing still!”

“Well, since I don’t seem to need food or drink, and the weather never changes, I do not know what I could need,” began the Human.

“I know of something that may help ye regain yer family and avoid Oblivion,” said the old man. His voice had lost its jovial tone and was quiet and serious. The Human stood still, distrusting this sudden turn of luck.

“And all you want in exchange is to move your cart? That seems too cheap a price for so dear a prize.”

“Well, I don’t have the ability myself, ye see, but I know someone who will be able to help. It’s not far from here, and won’t put ye too far behind on reaching yer family.”

“It’s a deal, then,” said the Human.

After a good amount of straining and pushing, the two of them got the cart back on the road. The pile of goods swayed dangerously, but not a single thimble fell.

“Thank ye, my young friend,” said the old man as he climbed back into the seat at the front of the cart. “And now for my part of the bargain. Ye will see a trail leaving the side of this path up around that bend ahead. Follow it until ye find the Witch. The Witch knows a great many things about the Past, Present, and, yes, even the Future. If anyone knows how to help yer family, the Witch will. Good luck to ye, and ye have my blessing.” The old man gestured in the air and the Human felt a warmth all over. The old man shook the donkey’s reigns and the cart lurched into motion, the pile of good swaying rhythmically. It pulled ahead of the Human and rounded the curve ahead.

When the Human reached the curve, the cart was not to be seen, even though the path traveled straight for a long way. There was nowhere for it to have left the path, either, as the dense tree roots would block its path easily. The Human remembered tales of travelers who met old traders on the road, and, if they were polite and helpful, received a great blessing. Those old men were never quite what they seemed, and were sometimes even gods in disguise. Perhaps this had been such a man? In any case, the Human felt as if there had been time for a long rest, and the journey no longer seemed as daunting. Keeping an eye out for the trail the old man had mentioned, the Human set out with renewed energy.