We walk in silence for a time, getting used to the motion and saving Piia’s energy for the long hike. It’s difficult with the crisscrossing roots and thick shrubbery. I can hear the creatures of the forest, buzzing and squawking all around. I look up to find the source and notice every tree has different leaves. Not just across species but even on individual plants.

The shape changes from branch to branch, also the green tone varies from leaf to leaf. The result is a mosaic display of colours that holds depth wherever your eyes go. The most spectacular part is the river of blue-green moss that contains little speckles of stars. I look through the tree line and see the forest’s veins of bioluminescence spreading across trunks and roots.

The effect is psychedelic, like millions of glow worms commuting on set paths. I stop walking to truly observe the wondrous magic in this world, the green wisp aura has also begun to thicken with noticeable motes of lights drifting in the air.

“What do you see?” Piia asks with concern, she follows my eyes and scans the forest for danger.

“The light show, the forest is coming alive. This green aura throughout the forest is magical, we have nothing like this back home. Is it magic?” I say with a childish grin.

“That is Mother of course, as we head deeper into Silva. You notice her presence growing stronger.” She says with a proud smile.

“You mean these glowing trails in the moss and the lights dancing in the air?”

“Yes, you will see. Her beauty is entrancing. We should continue further, Mother can not protect us on the outskirts of her domain.” With an eagerness to see more, we set off again.

After a time of travel, I start to ponder, not just my new environment but also my situation. So humans all serve one God called Order. And we have spirit in this world that can be collected after death and absorbed through prayer.

Having sampled the Elixir of one of their Gods, I can confidently say they’re more than spiritual symbols used to guide our morals and control our actions. That was real power I drank in the shimmering liquid like energy from the sun had been syphoned and distilled for my consumption.

How does it all work, I wonder? We don’t have Spirit in my world, is it the magic of Silva that ensures all living beings have one from birth?

“Piia, this soul energy that we saw earlier. The light you saw passing into my body. Is it found in everything living? Or is it only found in people affiliated with Order?” I hope my questions don’t irritate the exhausted Satyr.

Piia’s breathing heavily from the effort of walking. Even with my help, you can see she’s beginning to wane.

“We call it Spirit, it’s found in most forms of life. Usually, each living being falls into one of the God's domains. This is not decided by belief alone, just the nature of life.” Piia explains through struggling breaths.

“So there is more than one God. Do Satyrs have their own?" I ask, happy to finally start understanding.

"Our God is Mother, she tends to all that live naturally together. Beings that both take and give to their surroundings to form balance. Her domain is all land outside of the fabricated settlements. Mother is both generous and harsh, as the natural cycles tend to be." Piia starts to visibly slow with every word.

“And is Mother the source of your Spirit?”

“No, Satyrs and nature’s creatures under Mother’s gaze do not have Spirit. We know we have our souls, meaning that we are no less than Man.” She says with pride.

“Does that mean you can not empower?” I blemish, realising my questions might come across as insulting.

Piia stops and points her free hand at a patch of contesting plants, battling a war so slow our eyes would never comprehend the brutality of their situation.

“Empowerment is like sunlight to these vines and stragglers. They will murder their neighbour for a tiny morsel and claim it is their right as followers of the sun.” Bending down slowly, she grinds her teeth until she’s on her knees, Piia lifts the warring plants to reveal an ecosystem living in the roots and darkness.

“Life goes on without the light or empowerment. We see it as a blessing for if Satyr had Spirit the hunting of our kind would have begun long ago.” She was panting heavily now.

“I see what you mean, I am glad as well. Otherwise, we might not have met.” I smile at her with genuine appreciation. She returns the gestures with a faint and tired smile.

“I think we should take a break from travelling, we should also look for water as I haven’t seen a single stream or river.” My throat was dry and a dehydrated headache was on the horizon.

Looking around, I realised we had entered a peaceful clearing, a good spot to pitch a tent and read a book. Two blue bird-like animals shoot through an opening opposite and bank hard into the trees upon seeing us. It was difficult to make out any clear features except four wings, two on either side like dragonflies have.

I help Piia shift herself against a tree trunk. She reaches over to a nearby bush and pulls several thick, circular leaves off the shrub. She hands me two while eating the others she forages. I wonder if only Satyrs can eat these, what if they’re poisonous to humans?

“Trust me, Shepherd.” She says with a grin. I cringe at the idea of that catching on.

I place one in my mouth, ready to spit it out at the first sign of a bad taste. But then the leaf dissolves on my tongue, leaving a cool mouth of water.

"Incredible." I mutter while consuming the second leaf.

"Mother empowers in her own way." Piia beams.

“Sounds like -

A high pitch scream cuts through the air, crashing and snapping sounds follow in its wake. I quickly scan through the thick trunks of the forest. The noise is coming from ahead, so it can’t be the boys with reinforcements.

“Is that a stampede?”

“Ssshhh we need to hide.” Piia whispers as she crawls into a thick shrub. I quickly follow her. The noise of chaos is getting louder with snapping branches and groans. We just manage to fit together and sink low to the ground. A small gap offers us a view of the once peaceful clearing. The sounds crescendo when a group explodes into the area.

Three strange individuals collapse on the ground sucking deep breaths of air. One is somewhat humanoid in shape, with dark magenta skin that’s cracked like an arid desert playa with an army's worth of scars covering every inch of its body like a cross-hatched art piece. Wearing a short-sleeved top of pink-grey leather, threaded down the middle, with a sword belt and matching trousers.

But the most strange thing was this creature's face. It had no nose, only two slits where a human’s nose would be. Two thick curling ram horns perch on top, decorated with dangling jewellery.

Most striking of all were its eyes, all four of them. Two pairs on either side of its face were jet black abysses you would lose yourself in. The strange magenta ram head was still struggling to catch its breath when one of its party members started to speak in a whisper.

“Omnia has abandoned us in this sage hell.” It spits the words out from a mouth of fangs and black blood. The other two creatures were the same species. Resembling small goblins or imps with the same varying shades of magenta fractured skin, without the assortment of scars.

Their bodies mimic chimpanzee movements, using muscular arms to lope forward. Angular faces vigilantly search the area for danger with the same unusual two eye pairs. Long pointy ears twitch for any source of noise. The forest becomes a void of silence, threatening to betray my loud beating heart. Now that I have a full view of their bodies, I realise they are all nursing a gallery of wounds.

Dark blood is weeping from all over, one of the imps is even missing an arm. Whatever they escaped from must have been a warzone to cause so much damage.

Maybe they count as lesser cattle that I can tame. Couldn’t fate have at least given me a crook to swing around?

All three monsters, now more comfortable in the clearing, were staring intently in the direction they’d just come from.

The notion rocks me. Monsters are real. I only hope I can wake from this nightmare before they see us. I feel Piia’s body shaking in terror at the sight of them. She slowly turns her head to me and mouths a word.

Daemons.

All plans of taming them have gone out the window, leaving my fragile doughy body in a household of vulnerability.

The sparse bush offers little protection from the three cosmic horrors before us. If they attack, I can’t abandon Piia to being eaten alive again. But It’s not going to be like my previous fight with the children. Bugger, why didn’t I keep the stone? Oh right, it was covered in dog brain.

“The castra is lost, we will retreat to the cohort and report.” Ramhead’s hushed words carry an air of authority in the party.

A curt nod from both imps is their only response to the order. The atrocities begin their retreat in the direction of our bush, their path will take them within inches of our presence.

Panic starts to seep in like fatigue during a long haul flight, unavoidable and relentless. I look around my limited vicinity for anything I can use as a weapon.

Not realising my body was holding back a branch under tension, it suddenly pings forward from the tiny movement. The whole bush shakes and all twelve eyes turn to our hiding spot.

The imps raise both arms into the air and mutter to themselves. The curved claws on their six-fingered hands slowly extend and darken to obsidian glass. Ram-head unsheathes a dirty shortsword that resembles a Greek soldier's xiphos.

The sight of daemonic claws floods my body with hysteria, like a drinking glass under a waterfall the panic overflows and spills out.

“AAAAHHHHHHH!” The scream escapes me.

“Silence it now.” Ramhead orders, then surprisingly about-turn to face away from me.

The green hue of the forest starts to thicken. Nodes of emerald appear in the air, floating fairy lights illuminating the last parts of this world I will ever see. At the sight of the thickening green aura, the imps stiffen and hesitate, looking to their commander as if to debate its order.

Ram-head gestures one of the imps forward. It bounds at a rapid pace and leaps into the air, claws ready to catch us like prey.

Piia kicks out with her good leg, her hoof connects with the oncoming imp’s pointy jaw. All four eyes roll into the back of the imp’s head, it careens into the bush and lands splayed onto us.

The imps petite frame is surprisingly heavy and knocks the wind out of me.

I try to recover quickly and push the imp off, preparing for a follow up attack. As I heave to lift its limp body off us, I notice the imp’s head is twisted around and a long narrow tongue is hanging from its slack jaw. Piia’s powerful leg had killed the little Daemon bastard in one ferocious kick.

A furious hiss escapes Ram-head. “You will beg for death when I’m done with you.” The monster extends its arm towards us. Running from shoulder to elbow is a serious wound, it must have been sustained before our encounter, inky blood pours like a river delta across its arm and drips freely.

Wetting the blade of its shortsword in the oil like blood. Ram-head then waves its free hand over the blade, forming its fingers into a strange shape, until the edge of the blade glows as if a blacksmith had just pulled the metal from a forge.

Did that Satan-wannabe just do magic? So the symbols above the dead dog weren’t a hallucination. Now I’ve seen talking creatures, living Daemons and actual magic, twice. I was right, it’s a fantasy world. There’s no question about it.