Autumn ran for her life.

She wasn’t graceful about it, more akin to a scurrying rat as she crashed through the twisting bushes that blocked her flight. The haunting forest was lit only by the silvery light of the glaring crooked moon far above. 

In the gloomy light, a mess of roots taller than skyscrapers and longer than city blocks lay bare before the fleeing girl. She worked her way into the maze of natural stairways, tunnels, and passages formed from the weave of the unnatural wood.

In her fright and flight, she hardly noticed the creatures that eyed her with distrust. 

A fox the size of a horse with eyes made of purest shadows and five tails tipped with stingers akin to a scorpion wisely slunk away from her passing. Fearful not of her, but of what she might be running from.

As she clambered over a dying log, it bloomed with vibrant pink flowers that caught the light in a beautiful display. Yet she had no time to admire the flora, as she had no clue when the fae may pursue her. 

The Fair Maiden’s wrathful eyes and haunting call had promised a Wild Hunt. Folklore of Earth spoke of the Wild Hunt as a herald of absolute war and unimagined death. A mighty host of thousands of fae-folk would leave naught but slaughter in their wake. They would hound their prey and, in their weakness, strike them down.

Autumn had barely escaped a single fae, not even intact for all her efforts. A thousand riders would spell her doom. Already she could hear the baying of hounds that split the silent and eternal night. 

The mad cries of the fae-beasts echoed from all directions.

Haunting her.

Chasing her.

In her frightful flight, she’d find neither burrow nor offered shelter from the denizens of the Feywild, as they too feared the fury of the war host above all. Autumn would have to run and keep running until an opportunity arose. 

Not that she even knew where she was or where to go. It was a mad, mad world she had fallen into and there was no white rabbit for her.

Cold sweat built up upon her aching back as her lungs burned with exertion and her legs ached with the strain. Despite the sharp acrid pain in her feet, she fell into a rhythm.

Foot after foot.

The practice track had always called to her back home. The burn of her limbs and lungs pulled her into a world where she was all alone. A place where she could be herself and all that mattered was one foot placed before another.

Into that world she now fell. The pain and fear became a background noise as she ran and ran and ran.

Even breaths filled her battered lungs with the air of this unknown world.

She ignored the passing lakes nestled between roots that were filled with glowing, hungry eyes. She ignored the creatures, pretending to be small trees and branches as she passed by their slow swings.

Further on, she ran.

The music of a steady, rapid heartbeat was the only sound that filled the aching silence.

How many times had she been absent from music? It filled the modern world. From every corner, every store flowed freely with the melody of culture. Only now devoid of it did Autumn realize how much.

How much it had been a part of her life and how much she had relied upon it to soothe her. Now, without it, the silence was ever deeper and oppressive.

The baying of the hounds broke her introspection, sounding off in the gloom, sounding impossibly close. Sounding so clear, as if they were at her heels already.

Her pace quickened at the sound.

With wide eyes filled with desperation, she whipped her sight from side to side as she raced along, looking for gaps and tunnels to lose her hunters within. Shapes loomed within the dark, and Autumn could not determine if they were real or conjured up by her frantic mind. 

Was that cluster of branches a house-sized spider gazing upon her? A root the size of a freight train, or was it a python laying in wait for prey far larger than her?

Autumn flinched away from them all the same in this twisted forest. Who knew what was possible? It wasn’t long in her mind since a tale had whisked her away from her home. A tale told to frighten naughty children, after all.

Autumn ground to a halt as a fallen tree blocked her path. The obstacle was the same size as those around and was far too large to climb in any reasonable timeframe. She would need to pick a direction to continue her flight.

Yet, which one would lead to safety and which to doom? Or were both towards doom?

In the end, it might not even matter, for if she stayed in place contemplating and analyzing the Wild Hunt would catch up in no time.

“Which way?” 

With no time to spare, she flipped a coin in her mind and it landed, favoring the left.

The path alongside the dead titan of nature was mostly clear, as the tree itself had crushed most obstacles in its fall. What it left was still massive in comparison to her small mortal frame. 

With a suddenness that left her reeling and stumbling in the dark, the silvery moonlight that had been lighting her way in the dense forest dimmed to an almost pitch black. A cloud of unnatural design crept upon the raging moon and obscured it from sight. 

In that instant, the silent forest of the Feywild grew somehow even more silent before exploding into a cacophony of rabid howls and grim calls from trumpeting warhorns.

The Wild Hunt began.

The ground below Autumn’s tormented feet quaked as thousands of hooves beat upon it. Millions upon millions of birds scattered into the sky as they too fled from the hunting host. The trumpeting of a hundred warhorns off in the distance was deafening and Autumn ran faster. Her bloody feet slapped hard onto the dirty ground as she stumbled over loose rocks and sharp twigs.

But the pain was nothing to her right now.

Ahead of the desperate girl was a break in the fallen tree. It’d come crashing down once long ago upon the thick root of another grand tree. While it had devastated the sturdy root, a small tunnel had formed beneath the joining. 

Small enough, she might barely crawl through. Thus, she hoped the massive warhost would have to deviate around and buy her more time. She slid harshly into the dirt at its entrance, cold and pitch black inside like a portal to an unknown realm.

Into the dark, she scrambled. 

Each tree that grew in this wood was utterly massive. she could not understate how large they truly were. An entire city block would fit with the base of one. And now Autumn had to crawl between one. The confining tunnel wasn't completely uniform. Sometimes Autumn could almost stand within, while other times she’d be crawling on her belly as she squeezed through its claustrophobic halls. 

Yet she persevered.

But before long, she heard the echoing cries of the war hounds baying at the entrance to her escape. They had caught up and begun scrambling into the tunnel with her. Autumn pushed herself harder as she crawled with all her flagging might. 

Arm over arm, she crawled.

Over dirt and mud, over bugs and other nasties.

She fell into her focused world, empty of everything but the intent to reach the end. Nothing disturbed her now, not the quaking ground or the fey-hounds that inched ever closer.

An age and a half passed her by on her belly as she crawled. Her thin pajamas had torn to nothing as they ground up against the wooden walls. Now they were naught but rags that did little to shield her.

How far had she crawled? And for how long?

She didn’t know nor care.

Ahead of her, a beam of silvery light caught her eye. The raging moon had burned away the concealing clouds and now it shone down upon the tunnel’s end. 

The heat of a hound’s breath was right upon her heels as she squeezed free of the narrow gap, her wide hips almost catching. As she scrambled free in the dirt and mud, the snapping jaw of the first of the pursuing dogs emerged from the hole. It clawed at the dirt as it attempted to free itself and pounce upon Autumn. 

Casting about for a weapon or such to defend herself with, she spied a large and heavy stone beside the tunnel’s exit. In a rush, she seized the stone and slammed it down with all her might. 

The hound yelped in pain as blows rained upon it till it stilled. 

Behind the fleshy blockage, she heard the angry baying of more hounds. Soon they’d free themselves of the blockage and be upon her. With a quickness, she hauled her aching body to her bloody feet. The wooden walls of the tunnel had scraped her body raw. It now stung as she raced through the cool air of the eternal night. 

Traveling under the massive tree had been the right call despite the pain and exhaustion as the earth no longer rumbled underfoot and the baying of the war hounds grew more and more distant as she ran.

She had earned herself some breathing room.

So Autumn limped forth on battered feet before the Wild Hunt caught up.

She recited a mantra in her mind “Inhale, exhale. Keep moving, keep running” as she ran almost naked through the wilds clad in blood, pain, and fear.

Through the twisting woods, she ran without direction, only seeking to go opposite the hunters. Now, with the rumble of hooves a distant memory, a new sound grew within her hearing. The rushing of a river was like a balm upon her soul and it lit a spark of hope within her breast.

Autumn pushed her way through strange bushes and wild plants that hissed and growled at her intrusion till she came within sight of the river.

It cruelly dashed the burgeoning hope that had been lit within her as she beheld it.

It was the river of the dead.

The twisted forms of the souls of the drowned dead choked the river so full that Autumn couldn’t even see the waters that made up the flow. The dead pressed together tightly in a desperate struggle as each sought to reach the surface for the briefest gasp of air. 

Faces of every race and creed struggled the same. There were so many races of folk Autumn had never seen before; elves and dwarves, angels and demons. 

All blended in death. 

Each seeking a salvation they could never have.

Thus, the river of the dead would churn forever.

Autumn stood dumbstruck upon the bare gray banks of this river bereft of life and in doing so, the shades of the drowned noticed her. Their watery hands clawed towards the beacon of life they had sensed watching their plight.

Full of desperate hope or furious rage, they surged forth towards Autumn and the banks of the river buckled under their weight. A mighty wave of souls washed upon the shore, sweeping the stunned girl from her feet. 

Upon the slippery rocks she crashed and she clung to them in her desperation. 

The hands of the dead clasped onto her shivering limbs. A searing cold radiated as they robbed the warmth from Autumn’s body. Every part of her body kissed by the touch of the departed became nearly frozen, leading to her fingers loosening.

Within moments, she slipped beneath the waiting waters of the river of the dead and the rising tide swept away her bitter tears.