“The doctor will see the next patient please.”

I tuck my leg in to let the called patient pass through the narrow rows of waiting room chairs. The air is both stagnant and clean, wreaking of cleaning spray and silence. I pull my mask tighter as someone coughs down the row, anxiety tightening like a fist in my stomach.

A tapping at my shoulder draws my attention from the warnings against smoking plastered across the walls. I turn to come face to face with a small friendly smile behind a pane of glass. Built into the wall is a small fish tank, and inside that, a single axolotl.

I hold a finger up and the friendly amphibian smiles, slamming its wide, mottled-grey head into the glass. I drag my finger across its enclosure slowly, smiling behind my mask as it gives chase. It wiggles and pushes against the substrate in the tank, its rotund little body half swimming, half walking after my hand.

“... last time, the doctor will see you now!”

I jump, the knot of anxiety tightening once more as I come to my senses. I gather myself and get up, glancing back to see it give a single tiny wave before swimming back into its hide.

The swarm had overrun the few who took too long to kill the queens, dragging them down as they ran and shredding them before they hit the ground. They washed over the hills, searching for their dead to feed the living. They ran like rivers, coursing with a rushing current of workers. They crashed against a wall of fire surrounding the settlers, hunting for holes to pour through or limbs to pull across.

The thin flame wall waned occasionally as casters rotated, causing a roar from the fighters as the chitinous tide rolled in each time. Every so often the temperature in the air would drop and a blast of magic would surge through the mass of pincers and antennae. A hole would form for a few minutes while the dead were dragged away and more of the dog-sized workers filled the gap.

“GET BACK, BOY.” Cleaver bellowed, yanking Artel by his armour as the workers surged forward once more. He reared back, throwing his cleaver through one monster into the head of the next, then pressed his palm against a tattoo on his upper arm. The weapon coalesced in his palm once more, an identical rune glowing brightly on its blade.

“When will this end?!” Artel cried out, his voice cracking desperately. His face was flushed and his eyes stung with dripped sweat. He lifted his sword and dropped it through the flames onto the head of a Ruimate, splitting it in half before dragging his blade back once more. Artel panted heavily, his arms shaking with the effort.

“There’s still-” The old dwarf was cut off by a scream and a call for help from down the line and hastily swapped places with his relief. He trundled as fast as his short legs could take him, chasing the screaming as it grew more desperate. A few wagons down, a knot had formed around a game of tug of war between the monsters and a few warriors. The rope turned out to be a young lamia with a wild explosion of hair. She clung to her rescuers with one arm, stabbing into the swarm with the other in white-knuckled desperation. The Ruimates did not wait for their prey to die as they stripped away whatever pieces of flesh they could reach.

Cleaver ducked under a wagon to get past the knot holding the snake. A roar rippled through the crowd as the girl’s tail was yanked and she cried out once more, dropping her weapon to cling to whoever she could reach. The mass seemed to be winning, with countless workers using her body as a bridge over the thin wall of flames.

The dwarf took his prized tool in hand and quickly brought it down on the snake. With two quick strikes he had truncated her tail, sealing the flame wall once again. The girl’s cries faded as the shock washed over her and she fell unconscious.

“Get her to the healers! Now! To the healers!” The dwarf ordered, shouting “GO!” at the dumbfounded faces looking back. They jumped, retreating quickly to the marked wagon. Cleaver set to stomping escaped workers as he heard a voice in the distance scream.

“Starla? STARLA NO!”

Ruxnax sulked at the back of his family’s wagon, arms crossed and boots tapping loudly on the wooden floor. A tug at his tunic drew him out of his brooding.

“Here.” Galxnax said, the toddler wrapping a loose cloth over Ruxnax’s hand, “All better.”

Ruxnax looked down at his scraped palms, barely covered by the meager rag, and patted his younger sister’s head. She waddled off and he smiled, but his mind remained lost in the eyes of the rogue male. He’d shot every arrow into what could only have been it’s weakest spot without missing once. Each shot was more powerful and confident than the last… and yet he still needed rescue before the battle had truly started.

He clenched his fist, grimacing in regret immediately, and vowing to thank the two serpent-blooded who’d saved him. Thoughts of glory and bravery swam through his mind, the heady idea of slipping out to join the serpent-blooded who’d helped him slowly taking hold of his heart. Maybe he’d even save them in return. Emboldened, he edged to the back corner of the wagon.

Ruxnax glanced to make sure his family was focused on the fighting and quickly pushed his way behind a tall chest. There, tucked between the box and the wagon walls, was a large dagger he’d won gambling with the adventurers. He wedged it free from its sheath and slit a thin hole in the tarp, snapping through the threads of his previous cover-ups.

The grass crunched incredibly loudly under Ruxnax’s boots and he waited, heart racing, for his mother’s shoe to come flying around a corner. However, the chaos on the other side of the wagons covered his bootsteps nicely.

It was surprisingly quiet on the interior of the wagon circle. A series of cloth stretchers lay on the grass near the healers camp further down the wagon line. He took a moment to count, spotting nearly twenty stretchers, with half as many more fully covered by dark cloth. He stared, surprised, disturbed, and with a hint of relief at escaping the same fate. He remained transfixed as a new stretcher was brought in and set in the grass.

The confident dreams of glory drained from his fingers as a heavy realization set in. He recognized the wild hair and dark scales before several healers blocked her from sight.

“Best not look at them, lovie” A friendly voice whispered into Ruxnax’s ear and he startled, nearly screaming as he scrambled away. The source of the voice was a very pregnant young nanny, her ram offering a hand to help Ruxnax to his feet.

“You lost, kid?” asked the satyr as he pulled Ruxnax up.

He hesitated, glancing back at the medical wagon, then shook his head. “No, I’m… I’m going to fight!”

The couple bleated in laughter and the goblin’s faces grew hot. The doe noticed and waved a hand as though to clear the air. “You can’t help on the front, trust me, even Gaius isn’t like the adventurers!”

The ram pouted animatedly, bemoaning his delicate features for a few moments before suddenly shouting and dashing a short distance. He jumped into the air and stomped hard on a worker that was trying to scuttle past.

“That puts me in the lead, Cornelia, darling!”

“Are you counting the one our friend got for you?” she countered as he ambled back. Ruxnax looked under his boots, surprised to find them slick with green blood.

“A tie then, with an exciting new contestant in the running!” The two kissed teasingly, leading Ruxnax to roll his eyes and groan in disgust. However, his eye roll brought him to focus on several more Ruimates making a break for it. He ran over, copying Gaius’ leaping attack to drive his boots down on their bodies. To his surprise, they vanished easily under foot with a satisfying crunch.

“That’s the spirit, kid!” Gaius called as he and Cornelia released their embrace to chase the critters.

“Who says you can’t help and have fun?” Cornelia bleated, gingerly pinning a bug with a stick before carefully dispatching it with her hoof.

As Ruxnax dashed back and forth across the trampled grass he noticed that the creatures were beelining for the river. They would ignore him entirely, trying to slip by at top speed while he was busy stomping others. Ruxnax followed their heading, his eyes alighting on a sickly willow beside a large flowery bush. Though he didn’t recognize the bush, he realized what they were going for - they were trying to uproot the founding tree.

Ruxnax took two steps… then stepped out over empty air. He had a moment to recognize the yellow eyes of a Ruimate male before he tumbled into the feeding pit.

Stella sat in stunned silence by her sister's side, holding a cold hand between hers. She pressed it to her cheek and squeezed her eyes shut, for once wishing she could cry. The healers, after doing what they could, had cleared out to care for new patients being brought in.

“Stop that!” Starla groaned, “You’re getting sadness all over my hand!”

Stella opened her eyes wide in surprise. Her twin smiled a twisted, slightly manic grin, turning her head weakly to look at Stella. Starla let out a soft groan of pain as she was constricted in a tight hug, but returned it as best she could.

Stella reluctantly released her sister, a hand at her back helping stabilize the injured serpent as she sat up. She stared down at what was left of her body in fascinated dismay. The healers had sealed the wound, leaving her barely two feet of a tail that had once been nearly twenty. She let out a shocked sob, an unsteady breath, and then bitter chuckled.

“I can never wear my favorite shoes again!” She exclaimed in mock exasperation.

Stella furrowed her brow, about to tell her sister off for joking at such a time, when a short cry rang out across the field. She glanced up to see a pair of satyrs animatedly panicking, gesturing to a hole in the ground as they argued. She reached for her glaive instinctively, then let it go and tightened her grip on Starla’s hand.

“Go,” Starla smiled, though the corners of her mouth quivered, “I’m okay now. It’s what we do, right?”

“Stabbing monsters - ” Stella started, biting her cheek to keep her voice steady.

“Saving people - ”

“For profit - “

“And for fun!” Starla finished, squeezing her twins hand before pulling away.

Starla watched Stella rush off, a tired smile on her face. She tilted her head up, looking at the clear sky and the suns halfway overhead. Her gaze shifted to stare at what was left of herself and she quietly wondered how things had gone so wrong before lunchtime.

“NO DOCTOR!” Juniper screamed, flailing and falling out of her branches. She caught herself mid air and looked around in a daze. She had wedged her corporeal form between branches as she fainted from the use of this new, strange plant magic. She shook the half-memory, half-dream from her head and cast about for the male that had terrorized her tree. Her eyes fell on the densely flowered bush and pumped her fist at her arcane achievements.

The dryad only had a moment to revel in her victory before she caught a flash of light out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see a snake-legged woman poised almost ten feet in the air, a heavy bladed polearm poised. She dove, then retreated, then dove again, each strike into the earth pulling a gout of green viscera with it. An explosion of emerald gas rocketed out of the narrow tunnel and the wave of workers washing through the plains surged into a fever unlike anything before.

The lamia dove once more, extracting something from the pit before heading to the wagon marked with a blue swirl. Juniper watched for several long minutes as the fire pushed out, leaving charred monsters and blackened grain. The rivers of workers surged, then dried out to a trickle as they retreated to their mounds. She was sure she had missed quite a lot of the fight and found herself surprised at how glad she was for that.

A quiet hush rolled through the plains like a chill wind, then, slowly, the cheering began, kindling into a wildfire of celebrations. A steady, whooping grunt weaved through the cheers, a hunting song unfamiliar to the other-worlder, which pounded through the open air with stubborn pride.

Juniper slowly sunk to the ground, relief washing over her with the waves of cheering drifting up the small hill. Whatever those monstrosities were, whatever they wanted, her tree would still be safe for the time being. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the suns soak into her leaves and skin.

A small, elongated blue hexagon slowly resolved behind Juniper’s eyelids, pulsating insistently on a dark green background. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to focus on it and she reached a hand out, willing it closer. With an expanding pinch motions with her fingers, the hex grew in her vision and she could finally read the words printed therein.

“You have three (3) levels available! Click to assign!”

Juniper reached out to tap in the air, a confused smile playing across her face as it expanded into five more hexes. They read “Leaf”, “Branch”, “Trunk”, “Root”, and “Click to assign! Three (3) levels available!”. A water droplet sound effect rolled through her mind as she clicked on “Roots”, causing the available levels to decrement and for a small number 1 to appear in the roots hex.

She waited for a few moments for something else to change but was only greeted with the same five pulsing hexagons. Juniper reached out to click once more when a flashing red hex appeared, reading “Warning: Potentially Hostile Entity detected crossing perimeter”. The hex was joined with four more, identical to the first, the flashing red burned into the dryad’s eyes as she opened them.

Juniper could hear her own heart in her ears as she wheeled about to find the intruder, her hands already outstretched to cast her plant magic. She searched for the shimmering black chiton of the ant-like monsters from earlier but found the plains remarkably still. Even the settlers around the wagons were quietly engrossed in cleaning up.

The dryad drifted in the wind, slowly revolving around her tree with eyes carefully combing the ground. She couldn’t quite reach the carapace encasing the flowering shrub, but got close enough to inspect the bloom.

Each flower was a warm green like the petals of a succulent, each petal layering over the next like a carnation. Thin stamen with bright lavender anther dangled around the edge of the flower, giving the impression of a small natural sombrero. The dryad was drawn in by the unfamiliar flora, so focused she almost missed the sound of movement behind her.

The sound was only a slight crunch in the trampled grass, but it caused the dryad to spin on the spot. She blinked and tilted her head as five yellow-green masses laying flat to the ground became apparent. Every few seconds one would open an eye, then quickly shut it again. She turned away, then quickly whipped back, catching all five mid motion.

Each was roughly shaped like an axolotl, with the same wide body and long, flat, vertical tail. They also shared the wide heart shaped heads and flowing external gills of their earthly counterpart, the goofy, excitable smile of an axolotl stretched across their faces.

There were some differences, though, as each was nearly four feet long from tip to tail, with broad forelegs, the front pair tipped with large, mole-like claws. They were coloured roughly the same as the prairie grasses, though their skin seemed to shimmer with a variety of colours in the suns.

Juniper slowly floated away from them, circling around her tree as wide as she could while remaining in the air. The axolotl creatures followed, leapfrogging the furthest over the rest, who remained hunkered with eyes shut. Each seemed vaguely interested in trying to either ram Juniper or eat her, though their efforts were rather half hearted, letting her dodge easily. The dryad noticed that they did not jump, but rather hovered, letting their limbs go limp as each magically drifted over the rest.

They seemed to be fixated on her and followed the glittering green doll for several laps around the trunk. Their goofy enthusiasm and cheerful smiles drew a giggle out of the dryad. Eventually, they seemed to grow tired, their colours fading to a mottled river-rock grey as, one by one, they fell asleep partway through the chase.

When the last had rolled onto its back to soak in the sun, the dryad finally slowed to a stop, wiping a tiny bead of sweat from her brow. A smile of satisfaction flitted across her face as she realized she was getting tired - glad she wouldn’t have to worry about getting fat while also being too lazy to walk. Juniper carefully descended and stepped into the grass to inspect the friendly intruders.

She touched a hand lightly to the belly of the one on its back, softly stroking the sun-warmed skin. These axolotls had developed a thin layer of scales over their normally porous, slimy skin - though the belly remained smooth and scale-less. She carefully stepped over a thick arm as she moved her hand up to its chin, stroking her flat palm over its silky throat.

Juniper nearly launched herself back into the air as one of the axolotl’s legs began to kick idly. She smiled, applying both hands to the task. The creature kicked faster, seeming to thrum and vibrate. The gill stalks around its head flared out and a blue flash shot from its face. The flash manifested into an oozing slime that splattered across the grass and soaked into the dirt.

The dryad looked down at her hands, slightly concerned at what service she might have just unwittingly provided. The creature, however, seemed unphased and simply snorted before rolling over to go back to sleep.

Juniper drifted back to her tree, positioning herself in the branches so she could see all five at the same time. She carefully wiped her hands against her trunk just in case, then settled in to finally relax. She let out a tired sigh, already exhausted by mid-afternoon. When she closed her eyes, the same flashing hexes resumed their occupation of her vision. She hurriedly tapped at the intruder warnings to get back to inspecting the level menu, overclicking past the warnings and dismissing a hex congratulating her on another level gained.

Juniper considered the options, slightly frustrated it wasn’t going to explain the options to her. She noted it in the back of her mind among a list of other complaints to raise with the deer god and invested the three remaining points into the roots. With this, it would be easier to isolate the effect of the level ups.

A new hex swam into view, a warm green message stating “Levels successfully assigned! Initiating hibernation: 4 Months 0 Weeks 0 Days 0 Hours”

“Wait,” Juniper said, sitting up in alarm.

“3.”

“No! Cancel!”

“2.”

“Abort, stop, belay!”

“1.”

And the world faded to a soft green blur.