The first few days, Dan couldn’t leave the house without having a panic attack right out the door. The house was small, much like their apartment, but sparse of the everyday comforts. The two had to go outside for toilet business. Cushions and the mattress was filled with feathers and old clothes. 

Sage and another teenager brought them packages from everyone within a few days - clothing, food, teas. Sage made Dan a new notebook for his travel journal at his request. Afterwards, he considered asking Sage to make him a new travel journal as well. Sage’s craftsmanship was far above Dan’s. 

The farmers came to the house to bring him soil samples and describe their processes. He wrote everything down. From what he could gather, the soil’s nutrients were depleting, despite their measures to keep balance.

He started moving about the village to visit Ron on construction days or to see the eating hall and visit with the cooks. Traveling merchants passed through, but none were puppets like him. 

Soren advised him against seeing anyone from out of town in case someone with ill intent might come for the pair. Never know these days. 

He visited gardens and fields, which were all suffering. Disease and malnutrition was sweeping through the plants. The people said it started on the north side of the village and worked its way south.

He realized one evening that he couldn’t stay in the village if he wanted to find what was going on with the crops and gardens. Perhaps a runoff was introducing unwanted chemicals or material to the soil. Or there was a source of the disease.

He put on his backpack full of his equipment and notebooks. He donned the tunic and loose pants that tied at his ankles. He was small enough to fit in children’s clothes, which were plentiful here. 

He headed north, where the issues seemed to stem from. Sage and Bevel, who were never separated, went as well. The trio traveled in silence, pausing to check the dirt and gather a few materials. Dan noted as he took off his gloves, “The dirt is less aerated and is losing its color the further we go.”

“What do you think is causing it?”

Dan stood, shoving the gloves in his back pocket. “Honestly, I’m tempted to say it’s magical in nature. And it’s only been the past year?” 

“Yes,” Sage answered as they untangled the diseased and withering sassafras branches. They dropped their hands in disappointment when they found everything on it was unusable. “It’s spread awfully fast, even with rotating crops and using compost.” 

“Maybe cut back the dead branches?” Dan suggested, pulling out his machete. “It might give it a chance.” The pair set to work and found close to the trunk, the pulp inside was dust. There were parts that still struggled, so they kept cutting the tree back until they found a solid, healthy part. It was almost down to the roots.

“I’m tempted to take the whole thing home, but no doubt the disease will spread to our garden.” 

“Too bad we can’t just clean it off,” Dan said, examining the spotted yellow and brown leaves.

“There’s hardly any birds or insects out this way, either,” Sage noted as they continued to trek. The path lead upwards. 

The village was situated at the foot of a mountain, which had plenty of boulders the villagers dug out for crops and building. They were repurposed as part of play areas, walls, and buildings themselves. The witches’ garden itself used a huge stone as a planting shelf for mosses and pots. 

Dan made note of other huge rocks that trees were growing on top of and noticed the plant life growing on them wasn’t as affected by the rampaging disease and malnutrition. Birds and squirrels gathered on the enormous oak the pair stared up at. 

“Have you found a way to activate your magic?” Sage asked as they approached the boulders covered in plants and roots. They made notes in their notebook while Dan pulled out the map to mark it.

“None,” Dan sighed. “How did you do it?”

“Teacher Soren had me go through a traditional ritual. It’s the Trial of the Mountain.”

“What was it like? What did you have to do?”

“Go to the heart of the mountain through pitch darkness. You must face your demons and commune with the soul of the mountain. Your magic will appear when you fully understand it.” Sage put a hand on their arm as they continued to scan the foliage. Dan saw their entire hand and arm was covered in a bandage.

“What happened? To your hand and arm there.” 

Sage paused, finishing their notes. “I was cursed. By my mother.” Their bright red hair fell in front of their face and they pushed it back with the bandaged hand, letting the long sleeve slip down. “It will spread and destroy me from the inside. I already can’t feel my hand most days. Other days, its constantly burning and tingling. Same for my arm.” They paused and pulled out a vial from their deep sleeve. “When I use my magic, it spreads.” 

“Why would she curse you like that?”

“Because she hates my magic. She hates me.” Tears flowed from their serious face as they picked the herbs, careful to clip them at the top. “She hates that I’m not the perfect child she wanted.” 

Dan looked at his notes. “I know what that’s like. My mother hated that I’m gay. She cut contact with me when I married Ronnie. Denounced me to the family and said it was me who broke things off. Painted me in a bad light.” 

“I’m shocked. I thought you said people were okay with it.” 

Dan sighed, “Still some fogey-minded people who think being gay is wrong.” 

Sage frowned. “Fogey?”

“Old-fashioned.” 

“That’s horrible. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re not alone, at least, on the parent troubles.” Dan touched the stone. “Do you think the rock is protecting the plants here somehow? 

Sage answered, looking at the oak. “Maybe it’s creating a barrier between it and the soil?”

“Then the issues must be spread through the soil.”

Sage pressed their good hand to the rock and closed their eyes, head lowered. They pressed their face to the smooth stone and whispered something in a language Dan couldn’t understand. 

Sage reached into their inner jacket pocket and pulled out a miniature of Bevel, but on all fours and with a huge runic mark on it’s chest. “Oh,” Dan said, “that’s cute!” The frog was nearly perfectly round, like an avocado with a face.

Sage raised the figure over their head. It glowed and leapt out of their fingers. The glow exploded and Bevel landed before Dan. The Golem smiled and gave him a small wave. “Bevel, love,” Sage said. The Golem’s head turned 180 degrees. “Daniel and I found this further into the decay. Can you tell us anything about it?”

Bevel rotated its head to the tree and then it’s body to walk to it. The clay frog rubbed it’s chin as it hobbled around the boulder. The frog pressed a hand to the surface and let out a long, low, reverberating sound. It shook Dan from the inside and made his hairs stand up. Dan stumbled closer to Sage and asked, “What’s it doing?” 

He noticed Sage had their fingers steepled upside down and eyes closed. Their hands glowed as the frog’s voice faded. The frog turned it’s head around, eyes glowing the same teal blue as Sage’s hands. 

The glowing ceased and Sage opened their eyes. “Bevel says that it doesn’t sense any decay. The decay does seem magical.” 

Bevel shuffled, looking down. It’s huge smile turned to a frown. “It says it feels the decay trying to cling to it’s feet.” Then to Bevel, “Do you think you could lead us to the source of the decay, then?”

The frog’s face turned determined as it nodded and led the pair further north. As the pair kept pace with it, Dan asked between pants, “So … why can’t … I hear Bevel talk?”

“Bevel and I share a mental connection. Bevel can talk to other Golems as well. But no one else.”Dan pulled out his notebook to make notes when they slowed down. 

The pair slowed when they heard a rushing, white noise. Dan stepped on Sage’s heels and paused. “What’s wrong?”

“Bevel can’t continue,” Sage said and raised their cloth facemask. “Can you feel that?”

Dan scanned the surrounding forest. He had been so used to seeing the dead trees, he hadn’t noticed the ones here were turning to sand. A few collapsed in on themselves, no longer able to take the weight of their remains. The plants and grass here dissolved at the touch and left black dust in the air.

Dan covered his face with his sleeve as he tasted the chalky grit in the air. “Is it harmful for us?”

“I don’t know,” Sage answered. Bevel shrunk down and turned into the statuette in their hand. 

The duo stepped through the underbrush as it turned to powder in their wake. Here was a waterfall still rushing through the black and purple masses that clung to the stone. It spread as vines and formed webs of black and purple as it covered the cliff and water. Small chunks broke off and fell into the water. 

“We need to put a stop to this,” Sage whispered and rushed forward to the waterfall. There was a path to the far left that lead up the cliff. 

“What about samples?” Dan called after them, shaking his notebook and pen at them. He shoved it all back into the satchel and ran after the witch. “Gotta see what this is.” 

Dan caught up as Sage burned away masses of rot with their vial of embers. The pair walked through the ashes and climbed the steep path, pausing to toss more embers on invasive rot. 

Sage scoffed as they stuck their nose into their sleeve to check their supplies, “I’m getting low on embers. Do you think ice would do it?” They motioned to the gnarled huge masses of rot before them. “We’re so close. Maybe I could figure something out with Bevel.”

Dan’s mouth squished down as he thought. “Maybe teach me how to use fire magic?” he suggested. They looked at the surrounding rot and said, “Well, I don’t know if we have time.” They clicked their tongue and sighed with fingers to their forehead, “Okay, fine. If Bevel believes in you, then surely…”

Sage approached Dan and put out their good hand. “Hold your hand like this and put it in my palm.” Dan held his hand out, palm up.

“Now close your eyes and focus on how my hand feels under yours.” Dan’s brow wrinkled as he struggled. They studdered a second and said, “I- No - well, Daniel, wait. Let’s focus on your breathing first - something familiar.” 

Dan nodded and did so - basic meditation know-how. The rise and fall of his stomach and chest was comforting, even with the chalky smell around him. He was aware of how quiet it was in the clearing. Sand grit in his teeth and tongue was getting dry. When he turned his attention to his bare feet, the ground felt strange. It reminded him of the sensation of being in an elevator, but if an elevator swayed when it moved. 

“Now move your attention to your hand and focus on how mine feels.” 

Sage’s hand was clammy and sweaty against Dan’s fur. Then an odd sensation coursed through his hand and he opened his eyes. Sage’s hand glowed a gentle white and motes of light shimmered around their hands.

“Do you feel the magic?” Sage asked. “This is a charge of magic - don’t worry. My curse makes it uncomfortable at this level. Not much we witches can do without our golems.”

Dan nodded. “It feels,” he paused to digest the sensation, “beautiful.”

“Now, with your mind, channel that energy into your palm.” 

Dan focused. It reminded him of grounding techniques - rooting his feet into the ground and imagining himself as a tree. He imagined the light seeping through his palm and brightening like a star.

“Oh, wow,” Sage said, making Dan open his eyes. A star, like the one from his imagination, hovered before him. He gasped and broke concentration, the star shattering. Sage’s brow wrinkled. “Wow. How did you do that?”

“I just imagined it happening,” Dan whispered. “Think I could do it with fire, too?” 

Sage shook their head, “I don’t know - that’s not how it works for me. I have to channel my magic and abilities through Bevel - this is unheard of.” 

Dan held out both hands to the tangles of rot pulsing and reaching like a mold. He concentrated, imagining a cone of flames engulfing the mess. 

A flash and wave of heat blew back, throwing Dan back a few feet. He skidded back into the base of a tree, which collapsed into a pile of ashen sand. 

Sage rushed to him. “You alright?”

“I - I- I don’t know!” Dan answered, aghast and staring at the smoldering mess. The vines of black and purple were shrinking back. A circle of ash and soot was all the evidence of his flame. “Did I do it?”

Sage took their sleeve and brushed off his fur and shirt. “Kinda,” they answered. They glanced at their jacket and said, “Bevel says it thinks maybe you had a surge of magic - like a Golem without a witch.” 

Dan looked at his soot-covered paws and asked, “I’m a Golem?”

Sage shrugged. “Let’s focus on the rot right now and we can try to figure it out later.”