"Listen to the inner light; it will guide you. Listen to inner peace; it will feed you. Listen to inner love; it will transform you, it will divinise you, it will immortalise you."

  Sri Chinmoy, Indian Philosopher

  Milly sat on a wide, flat rock situated on the edge of the gurgling river that flowed around Milly’s Meadow. There was a cool chill in the air, and the fragrant pines infused it with a sublime scent. A wave of ferns, flowers, and meadow grass covered the land around her, and below that lay a soft, thin layer of moss, slightly damp from the spray of the river.

  Above the meadow rose the split-peaked mountain, which Milly, in a fit of playful immaturity, had accidentally, and permanently, named Cally’s Twin Peaks.

  It was just a joke! My mind was on… well, Cally’s twin peaks. How was I supposed to know that the player who discovers a landform gets to name it? Or that the name would be permanent. Or that every player would be able to see it. Fuck, Cally’s going to kill me.

  The surface of Cally’s Twin Peaks was marred by avalanche trails and the sporadic cave entrance. The pine forest climbed halfway up its slope, where soil gave way to a kaleidoscope of grey and brown stone that supported only the hardiest of shrubs, and even the shrubs ultimately gave way as the mountain rose higher still.

  The twin peaks were so high they breached the faint whisp of cloud that floated across the valley’s sky. Between the peaks, a snowy glacier with hints of pure blue veins amongst the white had settled where the mountain bowled. At the base of that bowl, a majestic waterfall cascaded down the mountain and carved an unassailable path through both trees and rocks. Its waters created a fine mist that spread over her meadow and down the valley in a way that created a rainbow shimmer when the light hit it in just the right way.

  The waterfall ended with a crash at the base of the mountain, washing over huge boulders that stole its hard-earned momentum. The water created a river that flowed down the centre of the valley towards the meadow. Started as narrow white-water rapids, it gradually calmed into a lazy river, thirty feet across at its widest, as the gentle slope of the valley tamed it. The river split in half when it reached the western edge of the meadow, such that it flowed around the meadow, encircling it and effectively turning it into an island within the valley.

  Milly sat there now, at the edge of that calmed river, staring up at the rainbow hues of the waterfall. There were other mountains surrounding her – it would hardly be a valley meadow if there weren’t other mountains – but she only had eyes for the twin-peaked mountain with its majestic glacier that granted her this moment’s peace. The roar of its waters provided a steady, soothing music that sapped the worry from her soul – its white noise drowning out the chaos of the world.

  She returned her gaze to the river. Its waters were slightly blue from mineral build-up, but otherwise crystal clear despite its depths. She could see trout swimming in the calmer river bends, until they scattered as the shadow of a hawk flew overhead. A raven dipped down from the sky and landed on the rocky shoreline beside her, oblivious to the witch’s presence, and parched its thirst in the ice-cold current. Milly studied its movements with an absentminded curiosity, until it craned its neck towards her and flew off. She returned to studying the river.

  Flattened stones littered the riverbed, worn down by countless eons of erosion. Its shore was littered with fallen branches and stones that had been pushed into the meadow by heavy spring thaws. On the other side of the river, surrounding the meadow, the forest of coniferous trees, ferns, and moss stretched on endlessly, so dense that light struggled to reach the forest floor.

  Milly eased herself off her stone and headed down to the water, stepping carefully to avoid the thick mud that formed where water met earth. She knelt at the river’s edge, cupped her hands tightly together and dipped them in the water. The glacial chill sucked the remaining heat from her skin. The water flowed into her self-made cup and Milly raised the prize to her lips. The cool water flowed down her throat. She closed her eyes tightly so she could focus completely on that moment.

  She had never tasted anything so perfect in all her life.

  She lost count of how many times she returned her hands to that water. By the time her thirst was quenched, her hands were numb from the cold. She casually wiped her hands on her grown to dry them, then channeled a touch of fire in both palms to heat them back up.

  Rubbing her hands together for added warmth, she spotted a pair of elk emerge from the forest on the other side of the river. The elk spotted her and hesitated, then slowly strode to the water’s edge for a drink. Milly wondered whether she should hunt them. After all, two elk would feed many mouths back at the Castle of Glass and at the Isle of New Beginnings. But she found herself unable to do so, the peace in the meadow too perfect to destroy, and simply returned to her flat stone to watch them drink.

  The sun arched across the sky in a lazy procession from late afternoon to early evening, and, all the while, Milly sat there and took in the sanctuary around her. By the time she final climbed off the stone to stretch her legs, she had seen bear, deer, beavers, squirrels, a dozen species of birds, and even a cougar venture out of the forest to enjoy the river. Although cautious, the animals did not flee or attack her, as if the Mistress of the Meadow deserved their respect.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Milly had also seen two creatures she did not recognize. The first was a twin-headed songbird that chirped in harmony with itself, creating soft music that filled the meadow like a string instrument duet. It blended perfectly with the gentle gurgle of the flowing river and the distant crash of the waterfall, and the resulting symphony took Milly’s breath away.

  The second creature was a multi-hued raven landed beside Milly and stared up at her with unmistakable intelligence. Milly placed a finger on its head and stroked it gently, and the bird nestled up to her for warmth. It stayed at her side until Milly’s legs had fallen asleep and flew off with a grateful caw when she moved.

  After leaving the river, Milly strolled through the meadow itself. It was almost perfectly circular, surrounded on all sides by the river. Five acres in size, it was filled with berry bushes, tall grasses, and tiny flowers of pink, yellow, and blue. Milly plucked a handful of ripened blackberries from a nearby bush and stuffed them in her mouth, savoring the intense, juicy flavor. She ran her finger along her chin, catching the juice that dared to escape, and licked it away with delight.

  The tall grasses tickled her legs as she explored, finding raspberries and blueberries in scattered patches. A tree had fallen in the clearing long ago and now sported a collection of tiny white mushrooms along its decaying trunk. Milly plucked one, wondering if Billy could identify it, and placed it in her inventory.

  A small black bear wandered into the meadow and plopped itself next to an untouched blackberry bush. It started devouring the treasure, until it spotted Milly and stopped mid-handful.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Bear,” Milly laughed. “There are plenty of blackberries to go around.”

  Milly was not scared of the black bear. It presented as much threat to her as the elk had. After careful consideration, the bear decided it felt much the same way about Milly and returned to its feast, thinking no more of the strange witch.

  Milly had never known peace like she did in her meadow, surrounded by the dense forests, majestic mountains, and the calming river. It was a balm for her wounded soul, and although she knew that the world outside the meadow was drowning in chaos, at that moment, it didn’t seem to matter.

  “I see why this meadow came with a warning. I don’t want to leave this place,” Milly admitted to herself. She turned her gaze east, towards the hidden, narrow passage that had led her to this paradise. Beside the passage was a Waypoint Pillar that only she and her family could access. She didn’t worry that another player would find this place by random chance. The entrance was unassuming, and it was located far off the beaten path. Even if they did, Milly didn’t think they would be able to access it. The meadow was hers – her personal sanctuary.

  Milly placed her hand against the meadow floor, breathing in the slightly acidic scent of healthy decay and rich soil. She could feel the energy of the valley in the soil.

  We could do so much with this place. A little cabin. A personal farm. Oh, we could try raising those Manifold Toads. I wonder if they would be tame if placed inside this meadow.

  She imagined Passi running through the meadow, a carefree girl giggling under the bright sun, and it made her heart melt. She pictured a small workshop for Rain to brew her potions, and a fireplace where she and Calista could snuggle together under a midnight sky.

  She spent the few minutes studying the meadow and deciding where all these additions would go. She found the perfect location for Rain’s workshop – a flat piece of earth nestled at the edge of the eastern river. In the morning, the workshop would be warmed by the morning rays, and in the afternoon, it would be cooled by the shade of the western pines. The workshop would be close to the water and provide Rain with unlimited crystal water for her brews.

  A short distance away, just back from the northern river, Milly pictured a small hut where her newfound family could spend the night when they needed to get away from the drama at the Castle of Glass. For a moment, she contemplated whether they could move here permanently, but she dismissed the notion.

  I love it here, but I also love our home on the fourteenth floor. Plus, the Castle has electricity and washrooms. I’d never be able to convince Cally to leave those luxuries, and I’d be reluctant as well. I’ve lived on the streets. I know how precious those luxuries are.

  She’d heard that some people – rich people – had cabins in the woods or on lakes outside of the city. A second home to get away from the trials of everyday life. This meadow felt like that. A hideaway from the world around them, if only for a few hours at a time.

  “There’s only one thing that would make this place perfect,” Milly said. She looked down at the skull ring on her finger. It was the first magical item she had received in the Contest. The Wedding Ring of Phillip the Ogre. It had changed her life that very first day of the Contest. It had given her the strength to survive.

  Yet, compared to her other equipment, it now seemed so small. It only gave a four-point strength increase, and it had a big penalty if she ever ran across the dead ogre’s wife in the wilds. It had outlived its usefulness, except for one final task.

  “I’m going to miss this ring,” Milly said as she cupped it in her hands and began to channel her Oracle’s Divinity. “It really fit the witch aesthetic. Luna, if you’re listening, I hope this works. And another ring would be great as a reward. Maybe a bat or cat this time instead of the skull.”

  Luna’s Pendant of Guidance glowed brightly as it awaited Milly’s question.

  “Where is the nearest system back door?” Milly whispered, focusing on the AI child that lay beyond.

  The Wedding Ring of Philip the Ogre dissolved into her hand. Its remnants were carried off on the breeze and scattered about her meadow. As its final remnant left her hand, a destination appeared in her mind, and Milly found herself growing giddy.

  There was a backdoor at the base of the waterfall that flowed down Cally’s Twin Peaks, only a quarter mile from the meadow. The discovery caused Milly’s spirit to soar, and she found herself smiling at the thought of being able to visit Luna whenever she wanted.

  “I’ll visit soon, Luna,” Milly whispered into her glasses. “I promise.”

  The glow of her amulet faded, and Milly’s thoughts returned to the potential she could unlock in the meadow.

  “Well then,” Milly declared, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s see what we can do with this place.”

  The Non-Canonical Aftermath: