A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

Jiuge facepalmed. "Oh, perfect. Even the core's confused."

"Relax," Agnos said, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. "This forest thrives on disorientation. It's all part of the charm."

"Charm?!" I sputtered. "This isn't charming; it's a nightmare!"

"And yet here we are," Agnos said smugly. "So, what's the plan, fearless leader?"

I glanced at the flickering map, then back at my companions. "First, we stay calm. Second, we figure out how to outsmart this forest."

"Good luck with that," Jiuge muttered.

I tightened my grip on the wheel, determination flaring. This forest might be playing games with us, but I wasn't about to let it win.

Another few hours later, we're still stuck in the loop. The buggy now whirring slowly as it jolted over another tree root, sending my cola splashing up the side of the cup and almost into my lap.

The oppressive stillness of the Forest of Forgotten Tales gnawed at my nerves. The air was thick, saturated with the weight of stories abandoned by time, and the towering trees whispered forgotten words in a language just beyond my comprehension.

"We should have found the exit by now," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "How is it possible to keep driving in circles?"

I tightened my grip on the wheel, trying to keep the vehicle steady on the rough path.

"For the love of tea, could you drive like a sane person?" Agnos snapped from the passenger seat, clutching his thermos protectively.

"Sane person?" I shot back, swerving to avoid a suspiciously well-placed rock. "We've been driving in circles for hours. My sanity evaporated somewhere around the fifth loop!"

In the backseat, Jiuge—the ever-composed fox goddess—lounged with one leg crossed over the other, absently flicking one of her nine tails. "This isn't a normal forest," she said, her melodic voice calm despite the situation.

"No kidding," I muttered. "This place makes Bermuda look like a straight line."

Agnos narrowed his golden eyes at the forest around us. "I said we shouldn't have come here without proper guidance."

"You were the guide!" I snapped, gesturing wildly with one hand while still gripping the wheel.

Agnos sniffed, sipping his tea. "And I guided us here perfectly. Staying is on you."

"It would be better if the projected map didn't go AWOL on us", I whined.

Jiuge rolled her eyes. "If you two are done, maybe focus on the fact that we've passed that same tree for the seventh time now."

I glanced ahead, and sure enough, the jagged, split tree with its warped trunk loomed again. It looked like it was sneering at us. I groaned.

"Alright, think," I muttered, taking a swig of cola to steady myself. "The Forest of the Forgotten Tales. It's tied to things forgotten—stories, memories, objects. What does that tell us?"

"It tells us we're doomed," Agnos said, sipping his tea again. "I'm not forgetting this nightmare anytime soon."

"No, no," I said, shaking my head. "This forest thrives on forgotten things. Which means…"

Jiuge's silver eyes gleamed, her fox ears twitching. "Which means what?"

I pointed ahead at the jagged tree. "That thing doesn't change. Every time the paths shift, that tree stays the same. If this forest is all about things forgotten, then maybe it's feeding on everything around it—except the one thing that refuses to fade."

Agnos raised a brow. "So, you think that tree is the anchor holding us in this loop?"

"Exactly," I said, nodding. "If we break the pattern, we break the spell."

"And if you're wrong?" Jiuge asked, leaning forward slightly, her tails swaying lazily.

"Then we're stuck here forever," I said, gripping the wheel. "And I'll have to listen to Agnos lecture me on tea blends until I go insane."

Jiuge smirked, her hands glowing with divine energy. "Fair enough."

She leapt gracefully out of the buggy, her tails trailing behind her like ribbons of light. With a flick of her wrist, a fiery, fox-shaped apparition formed in her palm. It roared silently before lunging at the jagged tree. The moment the flames touched the bark, the tree cracked and shattered into ash.

The impact sent a shockwave through the forest. The ground lurched, the very fabric of the place shuddering as if reality itself had been disrupted.

The tree groaned, its glyphs flaring brilliant white before vanishing. Then, the forest exhaled.

The air grew heavy, paths twisted and blurred, and then—silence.

"Well, that's new," Jiuge said, brushing ash from her hands as she climbed back into the buggy.

Before I could reply, a figure emerged from the shifting shadows. He was tall and wiry, cloaked in vines and moss that moved as though alive. His glowing golden-green eyes narrowed as he surveyed us.

"Humph," the druid said, his voice sharp and sarcastic. "That's the second time someone's cracked my formation."

"Second?" I said, sitting up straighter. "Who was the first? And who are you?"

"I am Vigor," the druid said, his voice resonating like the rustling of ancient leaves. "A forest druid of this place. You entered my territory."

He tilted his head, his glowing golden-green eyes narrowing as he studied us, and his lips curled into a cold smile. "And to answer your first question—a sun goddess. Persistent, nosy, and far too radiant for her own good."

Agnos and Jiuge both froze, their eyes widening. I leaned forward, my heart racing. "A sun goddess? Wait—are you talking about the Amaterasu?"

The druid sighed, as if answering mortals was beneath him. "You get one question," he said coolly. "Make it count."

I opened my mouth, then paused, my mind racing. The forest suddenly felt heavier, like it was holding its breath.

"What did she want?" I asked finally.

"She sought what all gods do—something that doesn't belong to them." Vigor's golden-green eyes darkened. "A tale too dangerous to be remembered."

The forest seemed to exhale, and before I could react, his form shattered into leaves, swirling into the darkness.

"Wait!" I called, but he was gone.

His final words echoed in my mind, chilling and absolute. A tale too dangerous to be remembered.

I slumped in my seat, groaning. "Why is every answer we get just another riddle?"

Jiuge brushed her tails with a faintly amused smile. "Because riddles make for better stories."

I gripped the wheel and revved the buggy's engine. "Then let's make sure this story ends the way we want it to."

The buggy roared to life, and we sped forward—finally free of the loop, but with even more questions to chase down.

As the buggy jolted over yet another root, I clung to my dwindling can of cola and took a sip, the fizzy sweetness doing little to calm my growing curiosity.

Beside me, Agnos cradled his thermos of tea like it was the last tether to his sanity, each sip deliberate, like some kind of ritual.

"Alright," I said, breaking the silence, "spill it. You and Jiuge didn't bat an eye when that forest druid showed up. What's the story there? And what's the deal with him—Vigor, was it?"