As the time slipped by, Kasma grew worried. The third pahar was about to end and there was no sign of the nymphs. They were still inside of the giant bizarre tree. The heads were now snoring, drooling golden saliva. Occasionally the baby heads cried out.
The woods around him had awakened from the hypnotic charm put by the nymphs while coming here. Spine chilling cries and hoots were breaching the sullen silence of the woods as if threatening him, the only human hiding amidst them, that not even his soul would leave this forest.
Kasma stifled his urge to approach the rusty door. He had no idea what kind of being the tree was. And his twenty -year long life had taught him that never ever face an enemy of whom you knew nothing.
