I was trained in the gnomic tradition of magic. Simple love powered spells for hearth, home, and righteous adventure. Nothing really applicable to the Last Battle. But since it’s started, my magic has withered to almost nothing.

Cyan

8 Hours Later (Lowgarden Time) - Copycat - Breakfast Meeting

It’s the morning of our departure. We’re eating mushroom sandwiches and getting the details of Presto’s travel spell.

“We have a few options for travel to Darkhome. I think our best choice is Rickard’s Dark Release. I’ve never tried it, but it seems simple and safe.” Presto pauses. “Conceptually, anyway.

“We need to go to the bottom of the deepest cave we know. At midnight. Close our eyes and let go of all earthly desires. When we open our eyes we should be in Darkhome.”

“That’s it?” I ask.

“That’s it.” says Presto.

We munch thoughtfully.

“That does sound simple.” I say. “I guess.”

“Yeah…” adds Cy.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I can do that.” I'm a little worried.

We munch some more.

“What about metaphysical desires? Can we keep those?” asks Cy.

Presto shrugs. “Rickard doesn’t say. Just keep them casual. A reasonable level of metaphysical desire. As long as you deflate your ego, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Cy stands, brushes off his hands. “Alright then. The deepest cave I know is in the Sprained Knee Hills. We can be there in two days. Let’s roll out.”

We wash our breakfast dishes, say goodbye to Hyperion, and hit the road.

Walking through Lowgarden is really nice. The weather is beautiful, the trails are easy, and fellow travellers are friendly. Fresh streams, giant mushrooms, and fruit trees cover the landscape. Snacking opportunities abound. The air is thick with all sorts of birds and iridescent bugs. And marijuana smoke, because Presto keeps sparking up. Man, these sparkly bugs are cool. Questing is fun! Are those wild raspberries? Let’s have some raspberries!

We wander all day, winding our way towards the Sprained Knee Hills. The plan is to stop for the night in the village of Bent Back. We have camping gear, but we’d have to keep a night watch for pop-up monsters. Also, setting up camp is a lot of work. We’ll have more travel time if we sleep at an inn. Which is good, because we had a three beer lunch, and aren’t questing that fast.

At sunset, we’re still a few hours from Bent Back. We consider making camp, but not seriously. The moon is bright, and we’d like to stay on schedule. Also, beds are nice.

About an hour after dark, Presto stops, spins to glare behind us.

“Is that tree following us?” He points at a gnarled, squat, vine covered tree.

Cy shrugs. “Probably not.”

I stare at the tree. It moves a little, but that could be wind. I walk backwards for a bit, and the tree doesn’t follow me. “I think we’re good.” Probably. It is a mean looking tree.

Presto frowns at the tree. He’s a pretty sharp guy, but he’s had a lot to smoke today. It could be affecting his judgement. I know it’s affecting mine.

Eventually, Presto shrugs and we carry on.

Twenty minutes later, he spins again. “Ha! See! That tree is following us!”

Cy frowns. “That looks nothing like the last tree.”

“Of course not. It’s in disguise.”

“Then how do you know it’s the same tree?” I ask.

“It has a similar vibe.” Presto sneers. “Sketchy.”

“Excessive marijuana use can cause paranoia.” states Cy.

Presto scoffs. “That’s what they want you to believe.”

Cy nods. “I’m leaving.” He starts walking.

Presto doesn’t move. Frowns at the tree. I feel anxious. I don’t like it when my friends fight about foliage. I wish they’d get along.

Eventually, Presto shrugs. “I guess I was wrong. This is a totally normal tree.” He winks at me. Walks off with extreme casualness.

Oh good. We’re moving.

We catch up to Cy. The woods get thicker as we travel, the path narrower. Now it’s just a thin trail through a veritable wall of trees. Cy bulls ahead, with us at his heels. Presto is whistling a happy tune, practically skipping. He’s also holding the grip of his sword and shooting suspicious looks from tree to tree.

I give him a little space. Don’t want to be too close when he goes full lumberjack.

We pass through a wall of brush, branches brushing us from either side. I’m tense, holding my breath. We emerge into a clearing. I can see the lights of Bent Back in the distance. Whew! Made it. My heart rate slows. Those trees were freaking me out. Seems silly now.

“Goddammit!” curses Presto. “That tree stole my bag!”

He’s pointing back at the thicket. Hanging from a gnarled branch is his bag of holding.

Cy shakes his head. “Go get it.”

“No way. It’s a trap.”

“For fucks sake.” Cy stomps over, grabs the bag, gets ruthlessly pummelled by a dozen branches. The tree slams him to the ground, fires him out of the clearing, then charges at me.

I ready my club and resign myself to a good beating. Maybe I’ll snap a few branches off before I’m trampled by a thousand pounds of lumber.

Just before the tree connects, Presto shoves me to the side, getting himself caught by the tree instead. It envelopes him and disappears into the woods.

Holy fuck! I pop up and barrel after them, but stop at the treeline. I don’t know where they went. How do you track a tree through a dark forest? Also, what am I going to do when I catch them? Hit it with a stick? Should I make a torch?

I hear some rustling in the bushes, followed by Cy stepping into the clearing, brushing himself off.

“Huh. Fucking tree stole dad." Cy shakes his head. "I guess we better deal with that.”