"Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins."

― Gustave Flaubert, November

The group descended the ramp without significant mishaps. The frozen ground was treacherous, though, and at one time, Alyssa had to grab Mireille to keep from sliding off the side and down the hillside. Alea managed well enough with the help of Butler One. The two sisters had the worst time of it and Roberta fell shortly before reaching the end scraping her right arm and bruising her knee.

The sun was already setting behind the far off mountains to the west only seen as hazy blue outlines when they finally reached the logging camp. Several burly men were butchering a deerlike creature with large crystalline antlers and bluish blood.

"Is that edible?" Mireille looked doubtful.

Just behind the log house was an expanse of cleared forest where several hulking metal forms rose from the underbrush, challenging to make out in the deepening gloom beside a truly gigantic tree lying horizontally on the ground.

One of the men saw them coming and alerted the others. A big man with broad, heavily muscled shoulders and a red-brown beard falling to the middle of his chest patted his hands and walked over to a mobile barricade closing the gap in the sharpened wooden spikes.

"Greeting Lieutenant, I did think you might not make it today, which would've been a shame." He laughed, "Tomorrow, all the best meat will be gone."

Lieutenant Philias nodded at him, "Morten. Anything of note since the last time a patrol passed through?"

"Nothing much." The man strained his biceps and lifted the spiked barricade while grunting with exertion and shifted it enough for them to pass. "Only the tribe is making trouble as usual. Jess spiked a few of the bastards when they tried to damage the equipment but no harm done no problem, ey?" He laughed.

"I don't see the joke in that." Philias looked at the brutish man with disdain.

"Aw. Don't be that way. The winter nights get mighty boring when there is no action here and then." His eyes strayed to the female students, and Mireille's neck hair rose at the unwanted attention; unconsciously, she moved in front of Alyssa, shielding her from sight.

Filing into the yard, the other men greeted them with a simple nod or, in one case, a grunt. There were about twenty people all in all.

"Come in; food should be ready in an hour or so." The man called Morten pulled off large fur-lined mitts and then grabbed a nailed-together wooden 'door' and hefted it to the side. "Sorry, did not get hinges this time too. Might as well make our own if there is still nothing when the next ship comes through." He said a bit apologetically. His eyes were dark and sat deep in a weathered face. The inside of the loghouse was a simple one-room affair with partitions made by hanging tanned furs from poles set into the ceiling dividing the sleeping spaces. A large fire pit sat beneath a hole in the roof and thick smoke hung in the air together with an indescribable fragrance of unwashed bodies.

Gagging, Roberta and Georgina stumbled back outside as Morten laughed, "Lieutenant, what kind of sissies did you bring us this time? If it is not to the ladyships standards, there is the whole forest outside for you to sleep in if you don't mind freezing or being eaten?" His laughter intensified.

Philias raised an eyebrow, not disguising his contempt for the workers and their foreman. "That needn't concern you and some cleanliness wouldn't go amiss."

Alea seemed pale around the nose, and Mireille also struggled. Vivienne spoke a short melodic sounding spell and the air around the siblings cleared with a speed visible to the naked eye swirling eddies of smoke denoting the boundaries of her spell.

Walking over to the two Alyssa sighed in relief and coughed until her irritated throat settled down. The smell of old grease and days-old unwashed linen hung even here beneath Vivienne's spellwork, having long seeped into the walls.

They were then led to their sleeping spot, a free space at the end of the house farthest from the fire but, thankfully, relatively clean.

"Where is our scout?" Alyssa looked around, trying to see where Zhira had gone, but she was nowhere to be seen.

"No idea. She was with us when we got to the camp." Mireille shrugged.

Talbert ordered Annabeth to prepare their bedding, and the girl nodded wearily before she went to work.

Soon the men piled inside, laden with bloody cuts of meat. The antlers were wrapped in untanned skin and thrown on a pile of similar trophies to the side; a stench of meat gone bad wafted from the insufficiently cleaned claws, fangs, and other bestial remains.

The fire was fed with a mixture of wood and coal, and then large metal skewers laden with meat were put to roast.

Alyssa lowered her head and looked at Butler One laying out their sleeping bags. She felt highly uncomfortable with the big men gazing at her intently.

The Lieutenant was discussing something with the foreman Morten.

"I would have rather slept in the woods with some magical support," Alyssa murmured.

"Don't underestimate how cold it gets here. This is still no natural winter." Vivienne gave her a sardonic smile.

Valens nodded, "No one has a fire gate, I think?" He looked around uncertainly, "And that makes warmth spells draining over time."

"Butler One will keep watch over us," Alea interjected quietly. "So, don't worry."

The sisters were complaining to Jeremy and Talbert while Roberta winced, stretching her bandaged leg.

Kept awake for a time by raucous laughter and loud chatter from the loggers, they fell asleep due to exhaustion soon enough.

The next day saw them awake sometime before dawn as the camp became lively, and they were passed some soup and bread. Outside, the wind had picked up again, and the woods rustled with its passing.

In the light of day, they saw the rusty contraptions that had stood beside the fallen tree. There were three of them, and they comprised a cylindrical cage of latticed iron or perhaps steel with boxy machinery welded to the back from which rose several metallic 'arms' sporting claws and saws as well as four stumpy leglike appendages underneath. It looked utilitarian, ugly, and in ill repair. The cage had a sort of bar stool on which the operator could probably lean while manipulating several levers hanging from above.

"What in the world is that?" Mireille inspected one of the iron monstrosities.

"They look barely functional but are probably intended for cutting down trees?" Alea's voice sounded disdainful.

"When they work, they do pretty well." One of the loggers had walked up to them unnoticed and now spoke to them, startling the girls. "But they often don't." He laughed. "And they guzzle mana dust like a drunkard his ale."

"Where is this gigantic tree coming from? Shouldn't we have seen it from the ridge?" Alyssa asked curiously.

"This tree comes from a grove that is somewhere over there." He pointed north and slightly east. "And believe it or not, those trees are hidden. You see them only when you get really close to them. Damn witchy things. But they should be worth a lot. Ships or airships made of that timber are tougher, bigger, better. Or something like that."

"Will we get to see the grove?" Mireille asked.

"You might. There has been trouble lately, and the army should take a look, and you are with the army...so." He shrugged and stroked his dark brown beard. "Name's Berak, by the way."

"Alyssa."

“Mireille, and this here is Alea.” The girls introduced themselves.

Jeremy ran up to them and called, sounding a bit breathless, "We are leaving you dolts! What are you doing running around the camp like that? The next time I simply say I didn't find you!" He looked at them angrily then huffed and turned to go back.

"Nice talking to you." The dark-bearded man laughed. "Take care not to get eaten" His laughter intensified.

Alyssa threw him an uncertain look, then shook her head and left with her friends in tow.

The Lieutenant and Zhira waited before the log house, and Philias started talking as soon as they were in hearing range. "Today, we go and visit the grove those men here are harvesting. There could be some trouble, so I want you to be alert every moment. Demerits for inattention. Let's go." Impatiently he gestured and then let Zhira retake the lead.

The sunlight filtered through the high branches and drew light patterns across the packed snow beneath. Here and there, effects of elemental magic could be seen as ice reacted with wind or earth and short-lived twinkling vinelike crystal grew along the living trees. Little glowing motes danced on the wind and soared along the treetops like dandelion seeds made of light.

Alyssa seemed spellbound by the spectacle and Mireille had to pull her along repeatedly. "What are you staring at? There is another one just over there. Don't stand around- it's cold!" She shivered.

"I can see its beauty even with my left eye." She smiled in delight. "It seems to be apart from the decay I see everywhere!"

Mireille raised her eyebrow, "If you simply want something lasting, you should just collect jewelry then." Ducking under the half-hearted swing of her friend she laughed.

"Quiet! The next time I see you playing around, you –will – get a demerit. I will not repeat it." The Lieutenant called out, looking annoyed.

They walked on in silence while the trees subtly changed, there was a bit of foliage here and there, and the air felt warmer.

Nordmark Lands, the central Keep

"The Magister did what? A winter field training?" Zygmund von Nordmark focused on his retainer a man in his early thirties

"Noble sons and daughters just on my doorstep. It's nearly time anyway. Mobilize my troops and then capture them all."

"Is it time to reveal our hand so openly?" Ivyander, the frost elf, stood near the wall beside a column shrouded in shadow.

"They will think the same as you. It's too early; How can they openly rebel; They cannot possibly be ready to act like that." He grinned mirthlessly, his wrinkled features backlit by the sole candle highlighting the deep crevices left by time's passing before he stepped outside of mortality. "And the best thing is- They are right. We are not ready, and normally I wouldn't do such a stupid thing, but they don't know that our reinforcements will arrive any day now, and with so many hostages, the noble families will hesitate to openly defy me if it looks like there is any hope at all."

"It's risky. If that attempt fails, the undying queen loses her biggest foothold on this side of the mountains."

"Then we shall take care not to disappoint, will we?"

Back in the forest

The forest grew denser, and the air warmed even more, the enchantments warming their clothes shut down one by one. Alyssa looked at Mireille with a raised eyebrow, "What is this? Why is it so warm around here?"

"I don't rightly know." Mireille shrugged.

Signs of logging and transport were all over the place. Only broken stumps remained where large trees once stood and deep ruts in the ground and broken undergrowth lined the path. The trees had become green again, and leaves and foliage blocked the feeble rays of the winter sun, but somehow a greenish light permeated the air and brought a warmth that seemed to pass clothes and directly reach the skin.

Vivienne looked around, "It's one of the old druidic groves. There should be a small node of power somewhere. Similar but smaller than the one under the Academy." She seemed uncomfortable. "They did not even care for the lesser trees and simply felled some of the old giants. It looks like they do not expect to have much time with this, which worries me. And even I am disgusted at the senseless destruction. The trees won't come back for hundreds of years, and this is obviously only grabbing some money. Other materials could serve, if not as well, at least adequately. I hope there aren't any dryads they would never have tolerated this."

"Dryads?" Mireille looked interested, "Those tree women?"

"They are nature spirits that appear in mana-rich areas and grow together with a tree. They are part elemental, part spirit, and partly fey. At least the books I read classify them as such." Alea softly said, looking at the Lieutenant, who seemed to be absorbed in inspecting their surroundings.

A few minutes of walking brought them to a large open space beneath a truly massive oak tree. The crown was nearly a hundred meters in diameter, and a dozen grown men could not surround the trunk. Underneath, the ground was covered with a delicate veil of mist, and grasses and flowers grew beside soggy ground and shallow pools filled with colorful fish. At the edge of this clearing, several large trees had already been felled and as Alyssa looked around she saw many patches of entropic light shining from the billowing fog. As the vapors moved, there was a moment when she saw the source of the death energies more clearly, and there were small brown hands clasped to a badly mangled throat.

Zhira walked ahead and looked at another diminutive figure lying contorted beside a shattered smaller tree that had been left to rot after one of the old giants had broken it in its fall.

Annabeth looked stricken at the death surrounding them.

"Corporal, scout the perimeter and report anything suspicious. No dawdling!" Philias walked to the front and called to the silent scout.

Magic flowed through the air, and all of them felt it prickling along their skin. Fatigue lessened as each breath drew air filled with vitality into their tired lungs.

"Is no one around here a follower of Irkonos?" Alyssa frowned. "This is obviously a sacred place!"

Walking a bit closer they saw that the oak tree dominating the clearing grew over a large stone face sculpted out of granite and weathered by countless millennia it was worn away in places but still showed a general outline of an inhumanly elongated face with slanted eyes. Moss and lichen grew in the cracks leading up from where the roots had tightly grasped the edges.

"What is that?" Mireille nudged Alea.

"It seems to be one of the elder races, perhaps elven or fay?"

A sense of timeless antiquity pervaded the area and the wisps of mist slowly flowed across the swampy ground while light shone through the leaves tinged in green and gold. Further into the forest, away from the clearing, some lonely patches of snow still shone, but here the temperature was nearly comfortable. If you didn't know better, one could think it the first days of spring.

"So, it seems that everything is still in order." The Lieutenant spoke to their scout and then called them over. "We will go back for now. Fall in behind me, this time the corporal will take the rear."

Alyssa stood beside one of the fallen figures and saw a small female figure formed of polished-looking wood with a fine and even grain with eyes of solid green, a beautiful face with hair the color of fresh grass, dulled and wilted in death, and the remnants of clothing made of vines and leaves. Several deep slashes into the neck and side had bled sap-like reddish 'blood' which long since hardened and gleamed in the sun like jewels. The dryad had tried to stop the bleeding, and the hands were still pressed to the gaping wounds.

"Come, don't stop, or we will get into trouble again. Let's talk later." Mireille dragged her friend with her while softly hissing, "I don't like it too."

"My mother told me stories of nymphs and dryads; she was a faithful of Irkonos." Alyssa quietly replied while her eyes remained on the dead littering the clearing.

A small figure crouched a the edge of the clearing and looked at the group leaving. When they had entirely left her field of view, a girl with the large furry ears of a wolf and eyes the color of honey grabbed a folded note with delicately clawed hands where it was stashed underneath a small stone. The parchment vanished inside the tanned furs clinging to her form, and with a bounding leap, she disappeared back into the forest without rustling a single leaf.