At first, I tried simply passing through the door as any incorporeal being would.

But despite my ghostly appearance, my spirit form had substance and met with resistance when it came in contact with the wood’s surface. I sighed and, turning the handle, I opened the door as I would’ve ordinarily.

Exiting the cabin, I found myself on an elevated platform. More properly, the building was a treehouse built in the upper branches of a tall redwood that rose a few dozen yards off the ground. There were other trees nearby, but all were shorter than the one in which I was located, giving me a panoramic view of my surroundings.

I was in a forest grove.

In the distance, I spied a lake and what appeared to be another log cabin resting on its shores. From where I stood, I could not make out the lake’s far shores nor what lay on the other sides of the forest grove.

Hmm... What now? I wondered.

A Game message dropped into my mind.

Your task: Pass the First Trial has been updated. Revised objective: Reach the second log cabin safely to complete the first test.

The cabin didn’t look to be too far away. By all appearances, it was only a few minutes’ walk from where I stood—if I could get down from my elevated perch, of course. And assuming the forest held no danger, which I was sure it did. I glanced over the edge of the wooden platform.

There was no way down.

The platform surrounded the treehouse on all sides, and I walked a slow circuit around the entire perimeter but still failed to spot a means of getting to the forest floor.

Can’t I just jump? I wondered. If I was corporeal, I would never have considered it, but I was without body... the impact shouldn’t harm me.

Still, it would be foolish to try.

I eyed the tree’s lower limbs. Leaping my way downwards using one-step and the intervening branches to break my descent seemed possible. It would be tricky, though.

I walked the perimeter a few more times, trying to figure out another way down, but after a while, I gave up as I failed to spot a better approach. Sighing, I mapped a route through the branches, then dropped from the platform.

After a second of freefall, I cast one-step and flung myself at the closest branch, hands outstretched to wrap around its thick bough.

I mistimed my leap.

Arms windmilling, I grabbed for the branch but missed my grab by more than a handspan. Uh-oh, I thought with a sinking feeling.

It seemed I was taking the quick way down, after all.

The first waypoint on my planned route down had been the simplest to reach, and I should’ve made it easily. But I’d forgotten that my spirit form was not as lithe as my physical one, and I was no longer capable of performing the acrobatics I’d grown used to.

I plummeted, jaw clenched to hold in the scream that threatened to erupt. On the way down, I bounced off countless branches and, despite numerous attempts, missed every grab.

I hit the ground hard, landing with a thud that would have been bone-jarring if I had a body to feel it. Then, the fall would have killed me for sure.

You have sustained zero damage. In spirit form, you are immune to physical damage.

I paid the Game alert barely any heed. For all that its message was welcome, it did nothing to alleviate the agony ripping through me. Even absent a body, I experienced pain.

Every square inch of me felt on fire.

The bones I didn’t have felt as if they’d been shattered, the limbs I was missing screamed that they’d been mangled, my eyes refused to see, and my fingers barely twitched. For interminably long, the pain went on, not abating, and I lay stretched out on the forest floor—unmoving and vulnerable.

Eventually, the pain receded.

The unbearable whiteness that gripped my mind faded, and my thoughts began to work once more. Gods, let’s not do that again, I gasped. Steadfastly refusing to dwell on the experience—if I tried hard enough, I was sure to forget it entirely—I lifted myself to my feet and glanced around warily.

The forest was eerily silent. There were no bird calls, buzzing insects, or cries from predators or prey. To my senses of sight and smell, the forest appeared empty of life.

I didn’t believe it for a second.

Unfurling my mindsight, I reinspected my surroundings. Immediately two dark bubbles of energy made themselves known. They were inching closer, one on either flank. Given the manner of their advance and where I was, I had no doubt the pair were hostile.

I considered my options. I could make a dash for it and race to the second cabin at the lakeshore. Presumably, it would provide me sanctuary, but there was no telling what else lay in the path between me and it.

And I could not forget I was many times slower now. It was possible—probable even—that my pursuers would run me down.

Best to deal with the threat here and now.

Remaining relaxed and betraying no sign that I’d spotted the incoming hostiles’ stealthy approach, I took stock of my Mind abilities: charm, one-step, mindsight, and astral blade. My lips turn down unhappily. There were fewer than I liked.

I had two other Mind abilities—stunning slap and reaction buff—but both of those only worked in conjunction with my body and were no help to me in my present state.

I can make this work, I thought adamantly.

With affected casualness, I slid my gaze to my left, trying to uncover the hostile there, but whatever my foe was, it was too well concealed for me to spot, and with my insight skill operable, I could not identify it with mindsight either.

I could still charm it, though.

I set about doing just that. Using my mindsight to navigate to my target’s consciousness, I sent tendrils of psi towards the creature and broke through its defenses with ease.

A level 28 burrower has failed a mental resistance check! You have charmed your target for 10 seconds.

My brows rose in surprise at my foe’s description. A burrower? Did that mean…?

My gaze slid downwards.

My charmed minion had stopped moving less than five yards away from me and in a spot that had no cover. It had to be beneath the earth. So that is why I cannot see them. Ordering the creature upwards, I swung around to face my second foe.

It had not stopped advancing.

With every second, the creature drew closer in the same slow and careful manner it had before. Originally, I thought this meant the hostiles had been sneaking up on me. Now I knew it was because they were digging through the soil.

I cursed softly. Until the creature emerged from below ground, there was little I could do to it. Setting myself to wait, I cast astral blade and slipped a psionic dagger into my hand. At the sound of a disturbance behind me, I swung around.

The bespelled burrower was surfacing.

And it was ugly as hell.

Part worm, part maggot, the burrower’s outer covering was slimy, white, and translucent. It had no neck nor limbs to speak of and seemed to propel itself by contracting and expanding its body. The good news was that its skin was paper-thin and should be easy to pierce.

The bad? The thing was huge.

The gaping hole that was its mouth could easily swallow me whole, and as for its length, the burrower still hadn’t fully emerged from the earth, but judging from the size of its head, I guessed the creature had to be at least a dozen yards long.

Fighting these things should be fun, I thought humorlessly, as I began to seriously reconsider the impulse that had urged me to stay and face the critters.

By all indications, the burrowers were slow-moving. Even without my Dexterity boosts, I should be able to outrun the pair. Worse yet, my charm spell was about to expire. I glanced over my shoulder. The second creature was still two yards away and hidden beneath the ground.

Fight or flee?

Flee, I decided. Fighting was unnecessary. Turning tail, I hurried in the direction of the lake.

You have lost control over a level 28 burrower.

Hard on the heels of the Game’s message, the burrower lifted its head skywards and emitted an eerie howl, giving vent to its anger as the leash I’d slipped over its mind fell away.

The wave of sound rolled over me, unnaturally loud in the still forest.

Uh-oh. It does not sound pleased.

If the rage filling the creature’s scream was anything to go by, it would pursue me relentlessly. It didn’t matter, though. I was out of the burrower’s reach already and increasing my lead with every second.

A moment later, my mindsight lit up.

I skidded to a halt.

Another eight bubbles of darkness were converging on my position. Four of the creatures blocked the way to the lake. Two approached from the left and the last pair from the right.

I was surrounded. Damn it!

My latest foes were unseen. I could run over the ground concealing them, but that would risk ambush from beneath. I spun around.

The original two burrowers were also closing in.

The second had emerged from the soil to join its fellow, the lengths of their slick bodies undulating as they wriggled in my direction.

I was wrong about their size, too, I saw. The creatures weren’t twelve yards in length. They were at least twenty. And even that estimate might prove wrong—parts of their bodies were still concealed beneath the ground.

I looked up. Without my increased Dexterity, I wouldn’t be able to traverse the treetops as I had in the wolves’ valley. But I could still find shelter within the branches.

Darting towards the nearest tree trunk, I cast one-step and pulled myself onto a low-lying branch, then repeated the maneuver twice over until I was at least five yards off the ground.

Perched more precariously than I liked on a bough, I glanced down.

One of the burrowers had reached the tree and, wrapping itself about the trunk, was propelling itself upwards.

Perhaps this was not such a good idea.

More burrowers were emerging from the ground to squirm around the tree’s base. I was trapped.

What now, Michael?

~~~

My first thought was that I should have chosen terrifying howl instead of astral blade. A nice crowd control ability would have come in handy just about now. But regret helped me naught, and while I sat dithering on the tree trunk, my situation only worsened.

The first burrower had not let up on its damnable shrieking, and every second more burrowers entered my mindsight’s sphere of awareness—summoned by their enraged fellow.

Charming the creature had been a mistake, one of many I’d made already.

I squashed the renewed impulse to dwell further on my poor choices and forced my thoughts to something more productive: what to do next.

Venturing further upwards was not an option. There were no other branches in reach. Likewise, returning to the ground was suicide. It boiled with squirming burrowers.

Multiple burrowers had wrapped themselves around the tree trunk and, wriggling all over one another, were making their way slowly but surely towards my position.

No choice now but to fight, I decided. Let’s see if I can’t convince these worms that I’m not worth the effort.

Casting charm, I targeted one of the burrowers wrapped around the tree. It fell under my spell as easily as the first had, and I ordered it to attack its closest fellow—another burrower squirming up the tree.

While I waited in anticipation of the outcome, I recast astral blade. After the purple dagger manifested in my hand, I turned my attention to the battling creatures.

The pair weren’t fighting.

I frowned. Had my charmed minion refused my order? Turning my focus inwards, I checked the leash I had around the burrower’s mind. It was intact, and from the emotions I sensed roiling off the creature, it was doing my bidding.

So why wasn’t its jaws clamped around its fellow? My frown deepening, I studied my minion and its target more closely.

The two creatures were battling, if only in an inept manner.

Each was constricting its body about its foe. My lips twisted sourly. The pair were attempting to strangle each other, and while one of the creatures might eventually kill the other, it would take far longer than the ten seconds allowed by my charm spell!

Charming the creatures is all but useless, I concluded in frustration. That left me with only one other means of hurting my pursuers.

Hefting the ethereal blade in my palm, I whipped my arm forward, launching the dagger at the closest burrower’s head.

The luminescent blade flew through the air and struck its target dead center. But instead of tearing open the flesh around the burrower’s head the way a normal dagger would, the blade formed from strands of psi expanded into a patch of violet that pulsed angrily before fading.

You have injured a level 26 burrower, inflicting psi damage. Nerves at the point of contact have been weakened. Inflict further psi damage to deaden them entirely.

Your telepathy has increased to level 37.

That’s better, I thought, smiling grimly. The astral blade had not dealt the same amount of critical damage that I was used to inflicting with my shortswords, but it had caused damage all the same.

I summoned another astral blade and struck the burrower in question in nearly the same spot again.

You have injured a level 26 burrower, inflicting psi damage.

Then I did it again and again, all while the creature and its companions climbed closer to my perch.