A small caravan led a tight line of carts, horses and travellers along the borders of the forest. Faedwood was dense and without paths and horses refused to enter it. Illdian sat on the back wagon, slouched slightly, leaning on his sword. Though tired, he didn't trust himself to nod off. They were too near this place. The stories he had heard in the village were too dark and raw to be fantasy.

He heard the driver shout a command to his horses. The cart lurched a little as they sped up. Illdian leant back on a crate and sighed. He swayed a little and fell into a drowsy half-awake state. Seconds passed like hours as he slipped in and out, like a river otter swimming against the current. An interesting dream took hold of him. He was sitting on a large, lizard like beast with six thick legs undulating below him. The crate he leant on was now a joint in the creature's spine. He stood up almost lethargically, seeing no apparent need to run or shout; and looked around. The road was half as wide as before eaten up on both sides by trees. The driver was gone, replaced by a muscular being holding long black chains. It bent to the left briefly, allowing Illdian to see the ends of the chains running into the lizard-creature's ear canals. A slight tug by the driver made the beast move faster.

Illdian scanned ahead and saw similar beasts trudging forward in a neat line, towards the horizon. The sky above him however, bore a remarkable difference. It was a vibrant red, like blood in a jar lit from beneath by fire. Suddenly a voice from behind made him spin around.

"Beautiful isn't it? Faedwood has been like this even before it was given the name." Said the hermit. "I know your heart Illdian, you would seek to destroy all I have made."

Illdian gave a shocked look. He tried to answer, tell the old man hovering over the ground that he would never destroy a forest, but his breath came in heavy, syrup-like gushes. Not seriously perturbed, he sat back down, intent on getting back to sleep. As his eyes shut again the voice came again.

"The forest only hides my creation. Let it now hide your corpse."

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Illdian woke up on a bed of softly matted vines and moss. The buttress roots of a tree cradled him on either side. Full realization setting in, he jumped up and immediately felt for his sword.

"Good. Still there." He said, relieved. His bow and arrows were all in place, along with the contents of his pack and cloak pockets.

"A bloody illusion!" he said to himself, walking carefully out of the tree's cove and into a large patch of moonlight. He felt a little calmer in the pallid blaze. He darted into the shadows and began to pick his way through the maze of vines and roots, intent on getting to the core of things.