The forest was dry. Incredibly dry. I'd not paid enough attention, but I think it hadn't been raining for at least two months, if not longer. The nearby trees were all dried out, and the leaves overhead had taken on a slightly yellow tone, though they were still alive, and after checking some, they weren't crumbly or dead. While walking, I idly observed the once-again cloudless sky, and glimpsed the burning light of the sun streaming through gaps in the canopy. I didn't think global warming was this far along, was it? Why the heatwave, then?

We were following a small trail, at least for the moment. The path was trodden, not covered in asphalt or gravel, and had thus already succumbed to the grass a little. I had concerns about wild ticks, but those were unfounded. The grass wasn't high enough for those.

As we walked, I tried to listen intently for any sign of noise, more out of boredom than interest, since the one leading us was inside the mirror in my hand. I tried to understand how she moved with me without actually walking, but eventually attributed it to mirror fuckery and continued following her directions.

"Take the left one" said my own disembodied voice from the glass shard in my hand. I obliged, and started on the left-hand path of the fork we'd come to.

Was it just me, or was the forest getting more lush step by step? Could be that the outskirts dried up faster, or maybe water was near? I stood still and listened...

Nothing, apart from the rustling of leaves overhead, and the buzzing of insects.

Those were remarkably absent as well, actually. I remembered the sigh of the cooler in the Smithsonian's kitchen, and suddenly didn't feel as bad about the city being destroyed. Perks of being the last human, I guess - ultimate authority about all our stuff.

Actually, did everything belong to me, now? If someone dies, and all inheritors are dead, what happens? It goes to the state, I think. What if the state is gone, too? I suppose it depends on how the nation was destroyed, then. If it was natural disasters, then it would still exist... but if it was conquered, then everything in it would probably belong to the conqueror. Question was, is Earth conquered? Depends on the method of making humans disappear, probably. Weapon or channeled natural process, like a volcano.

I supposed it would be a headache for another day, and continued on. The forest was getting much more vibrant with every passing mile, the dying yellow tones already replaced by healthy green and a variety of other colors, courtesy of the absurd amount of flowers everywhere.

"We're getting close! I think you need to break off the path, now." came the confirmation of my most recent suspicion. Whatever this "sacred place, untainted by religion" was, this must have been its effect. The exact wording she used was difficult to recall, but I managed it a few minutes after stepping into the roadside thicket. It felt like I was thinking through molasses, though.

Where before, on the path, the colors slowly got healthier and vibrant, they slowly became ...otherworldly here, off the path. Some of the greens, especially those adorning the trees' leaves, became almost blinding in their radiance, their saturation dialing up to levels that almost looked fake to look at. The grass changed similarly, becoming almost cyan in color, and even more absurd colors slowly started to appear.

There were more insects here too, I realized, and watched a tiny bee, which I could have sworn was glowing slightly in the gloom, fly off into the distance. I didn't even need my Reflection to give me directions any more, I could almost taste the forest getting stronger and stronger with every passing step, my feet carrying me forward as though they had a mind of their own.

Some time later, I noticed that the forest wasn't changing as drastically as before. However, the rapid change in greenery was replaced by an oppressive feeling pressing down on my head and lungs, which only became stronger and stronger the more steps I took. I was quickly out of breath, gasping for oxygen in the humid air.

Yet, I continued stumbling onwards. The oppression was almost tangible, and an intrusive thought had begun to persistently bore at my conscious mind.

I should just turn back, it'll be easier then, It seemed to say. I knew it well, because it was the same exact feeling I got when I was still working out. Suffice to say I'd learned one thing long ago - the true gains will only come when you break your limits, feel the burn, and continue onward in the face of inability.

The feeling intensified over the next few miles, but so did my will. I became Defiance itself, an avatar of willpower. Eventually, it took all my willpower to not just keel over instead of not turning back, but still, I persisted.

I'd long since stopped paying attention to my surroundings, or else I'd probably have noticed the mossy pillar of stone to my right. As soon as I passed it, I did notice it, because the aura of oppression that had settled over me was suddenly lifted, from one step to the next.

I stumbled to the ground, trying to keep my breathing shallow and my heart from beating too fast, and just lay there for a while.

***

The clearing (grove would probably be a better name, though) wasn't large. Maybe two dozen meters across, and ringed with carved pillars of stone in varying states of decay. The flora seemed to recede away naturally from the clearing, but there was no smooth cutoff point. Anything apart from shrubbery, grass and flowers just didn't seem to want to grow inside the rough circle.

However, all that was overshadowed by what lay in the middle of this grove. A smaller circle of stones, less decayed than the perimeter ones, but still distinctly 'used'.

When I sauntered over, I noticed definite signs of human activity - a footprint in the loose earth, remnants of a fire, various things carved of wood and bone, and a tiny pillar with something resting on top of it.

The latter interested me terribly, so after setting down our supplies and checking on Raven, who seemed to have fainted a while ago (but was, to my great relief, not dead), I examined some of it.

There was a set of wooden carvings, all depicting different kinds of flowers, some of which I'd only seen in the outlandish forest outside the perimeter. Some of the bones were carved with amazing detail, usually forming a floral pattern flowing down into a point, others depicting similar flowing patterns, though with a different theme. Lightning, water, and more.

Nearing the tiny little pedestal, I was beheld by a curious sight. It disturbed me slightly, but was tame compared to what I'd seen in the last few days.

There, on top of a little pillar, streaked through with vines, sat a skull.

It was pure white, bleached to perfection - and also carved.

All around the eyes, jaw and various other jutting bones were very tiny characters in a language I didn't recognize. It looked oddly circular, like the letters were grown from the ground instead of written, and had no similarities to the Latin alphabet. They didn't look like arabic or norse either, but I didn't rule out some sort of rune-based language.

Be it superstition or a hunch, I didn't touch the skull or disturb the vines binding it in any way, instead stepping over to the main distraction of this little clearing - the central stone circle.

Twelve boulders, almost reaching my knee, arranged in a circular fashion, with even spaces in between. There were two bundles of lavender and some other herbs on two of them, with a small, black candle on the one between those. The candle wasn't used at all, and the herbs were almost completely wilted, so I placed my guess for when this place was last visited at the same time every human disappeared. There was probably someone here, setting up something or other, before disappearing and taking the rest of their stuff with them. The skull was weird, but it could just be a fake. Didn't seem like that though.

During my inspection of the circle, the sky had begun to darken, and Raven stirred from her exhaustion. Apparently, she hadn't been able to take the pressure as well as I had, probably owing to her more fragile build when compared to me. She spread her wings, circled the clearing once, then twice, and set down on my duffle bag, making an angry noise when the zip-tie didn't yield to her assault immediately.

I quickly set up camp, igniting a small fire as far away from the skull's as possible, and grabbed the mirror shard. My Reflection had been suspiciously quiet, and I wanted to see what was up with that.

I propped up the mirror shard opposite me of the fire, opened a can of beans, poured some into a little bowl for the bird, and peered inside while eating.

My reflection was nowhere to be seen. It was a little strange not seeing myself in the mirror, but considering the last few weeks, I was used to optical shenanigans when it came to my own image in a reflective surface.

That's when I spotted movement in the rapidly darkening forest behind me.

I spun around, but it was gone.

Then, I looked back at the mirror, and saw it again - one of the branches behind me was waving rather aggressively. I looked closer... huh?

There, standing in the dark forest, angrily waving a branch in my direction, was I. Or she. I still didn't know how to refer to my autonomous reflection. I grabbed the shard and sauntered over, keeping it trained on the part of the forest she was in all the while, and eventually began to hear her voice.

"Finally! Do you know how long I've been trying to get you to notice me? I can't get in here!" She said with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. I suppose it was probably justified.

"In here? You mean the clearing?"

"Yes. I can't get past this barrier. You're going to have to shut it down for a moment so I can get through,” she explained.

"How do I do that, though? I can't even read this language," I squinted at the flowery runes on the pillar. "And even if I could, I don't see a big red button anywhere."

"Ha-ha. Very funny. This is an area ward, and that 'language' is-" at this point, she cut off. I stared for a moment before noticing that I couldn't hear anything. Before I could say anything however, my hearing returned with a pop. "-a very beautiful thing. Very versatile."

Hiding my frustration at another piece of knowledge being denied to me, I huffed.

"How do I turn it off, then? I don't see any obvious mechanism."

"This kind of thing is usually powered by something. Anything weird in there? crystals, plants, a lonely stone, carved into the shape of a cross? If it has two parts which can be removed, it's the source."

"There's a little pedestal with a skull on top, but I don't think I can remove it."

"Why not?"

"It's like... grown through with a bunch of vines and ivy. If what you're saying is true, those are probably significant."

"Can you separate the skull from the stone, or are the plants tight enough so it always touches the pillar somewhere?"

"the growth looks pretty loose. Let me check."

I walked over to the little pillar, I placed both hands on the skull, and gasped. When my fingers touched the bleached surface, I felt a tiny static shock. It reminded me of something, but i couldn't place what.

When I lifted the skull from its pedestal, I didn't have time for that, however. The moment it stopped touching the stone, I felt a wave of oppression wash over me, knocking me off my feet, and making the skull thunk down on its pedestal once again, reestablishing the barrier.

"Thanks," came a voice from the shard of glass in my hand.

"Always there to suffer," I replied.

***

We spent the rest of the night sitting by the fire, experimenting with the apparent selective deafening and blinding effect, but making little progress in circumventing it. We found that even writing down various pieces of information that would lead to a deduction of "forbidden knowledge" would be censored, as would the data spoken or sung in a variety of ways. Even morse code and a made-up cypher was useless.

Eventually, I felt Raven land on my shoulder and bite my nose, which, after some swearing, she explained by scratching a sketch of herself in the dirt, and afterwards crossing out both of her eyes.

Realizing that she was experiencing the passive effects of our experimenting also, despite not being actively involved, we stopped for the night.

When I went to sleep, I dreamt of skulls lit by lightning, staring down at me from high above - judging me