Vica had no idea where this place was. At first, she thought it was the Yrol, but something about it felt too utterly foreign to be the same enchanted forest she had lived in for weeks. Or was it? Maybe there was a kernel of something familiar there, but it was...younger, unrefined, raw and disorganized. If the Yrol was a thick tapestry of old magic woven into the land, brilliant and vibrant and sprawling, this forest was but a messy clump of unpulled wool, not yet blooming, not yet rich. Thin, short trees and fragile saplings all around and little else...
"Where is this?" She pressed her fingertips against the smooth bark of the tree next to her. The leaves were green, healthy, like those of all the rest here. "And I know this isn't real," she added. "It's springtime, almost summer here
