Ansel awoke to horns blaring all around the camp. He sat up and looked at Zeer, who was already standing.

"Today's the Harvest. Prepare yourself for a long day, kid." The other men in Building 49 exchanged worried glances.

"Time to move men. Stick to the plan," Zeer said to everyone, just loud enough to be heard over the horns.

Before anyone could exit the building, three Crimson Guards strode into the room. One shouted at all of them, "Get against the walls!"

Ansel glanced at Zeer. So did the other prisoners. Zeer slightly nodded his head then turned to stand against the wall. Ansel followed, standing next to him. The guards threw the men's bedding around, searching for something.

His mouth went dry. They're looking for the key. They must've already discovered it's missing.

A guard walked over to Zeer's bed. Ansel felt everyone in the room collectively hold their breath. The guard tossed the bedding aside and ran his hands over the wooden planks. They didn't move. Thank the Divines.

The guard stood and locked eyes with Ansel. He held the man's gaze. The guard turned and searched his bedding. Frustration coated the man's face after he was done. Ansel held himself back from smiling. The guard stalked off and conversed with the others in low tones.

"What's the meaning of this?" asked a prisoner four men down from Ansel.

The guards ignored the man's question and strode out of the room. One of them stopped and turned. "Follow us out here. Time to Harvest." He turned and left.

The room was in total disarray. Bedding and blankets sprawled all over the floor. Zeer looked around the room at Ansel and the other men, grinned, and gestured to follow the guards. He followed Zeer with the other prisoners. Bodies all crowded together while they shuffled out of the building. The vile smell from the group of dirty men almost made him gag but he held the bile down.

They walked out of Building 49 onto the muddy road where the guards had gone. They lined up in a giant rectangle formation outside Building 49 and walked through the sprawling camp. Crimson Guards were everywhere. They whipped other prisoners or rode along, directing the men where to go. A soft breeze passed over the back of his neck, sending a chill down his spine. The guards were herding them to another part of the camp. He scanned around, memorizing the layout while they were led along.

They were funneled to a giant wide open area - still within the walls - meant for gathering. The captain from earlier sat on his horse, waiting for all the prisoners to gather and quiet down. His crimson armor shone in the sunlight and his dark brown hair ruffled from the breeze. Three Crimson Guards with whips were standing around him at the ready. They stood on a dark wooden platform. Ansel strained his neck looking upwards to see them.

He scanned around, getting his bearings. He was near the front of the prisoners from Building 49, trying his best to stay near Zeer. Reed was only a few men away but wasn't looking in his direction. Reed acted as if he didn't exist anymore, which was fine by him. While the men from the other Buildings lined up, the prisoners noticed Ansel. Most made threatening gestures toward him. He was tired of being treated this way; he met each of their eyes to let them know he wasn't scared. His eyes landed on Sven and his scarred companion. They stared at him from a dozen paces away, whispering and pointing toward him.

Soon each group lined up as ordered. The rectangular formations of prisoners went on as far as he could see in both directions.

The captain spread out his arms for dramatic flair. "Welcome to the rest of your lives."

Many of the prisoners exchanged nervous glances. The most withered prisoners stared ahead, all too familiar with the oblivion that awaited.

The captain cleared his voice. Crimson Guards yelled at the prisoners to shut their mouths. Silence spread throughout the prisoners.

"Yesterday, someone stole a pair of keys from the southwestern section of this camp while offloading the carts. Don't think that you will escape just because you have those keys. We will find whoever did this, and when we do, that person and their whole Building will be killed for insubordination."

Worried murmurs rose all around Ansel except for the men in Building 49. He glanced at Zeer. The man kept looking toward the captain.

"Silence!" A guard yelled. Everyone went quiet.

The captain continued, "If a prisoner from the same Building as the culprit turns them in, we will spare the rest of the men. You have twenty-four hours. If no one presents themselves, certain precautions will need to be made."

Voices erupted again all around them. Ansel looked around at the other Buildings that stood in groups nearby. Fear was painted on their faces.

He whispered to Zeer, "This escape better be happening soon or we're all done for. They're not just going to let those keys go missing for long."

Zeer glanced toward him. "Don't worry, kid. The other men aren't, and you shouldn't be either. Trust me. Everything will turn out fine."

He held his tongue, but he wanted to ask how could he fully trust someone he just met? The captain was getting ready to talk again.

The captain cupped his hands around his mouth to broadcast his voice. "Now, the main reason you've been brought here is to collect the inside of the mushrooms. The Royal Family has ordered a Harvest every day, with no excuses. Bring out the Shroomveils!"

Horses with wagons rolled through the camp, stopping before each group of prisoners. Standing on his toes, he struggled to see their cargo. He could make out a huge pile of weird-colored masks, jostling around.

"You." Ansel glanced up. The captain pointed at him. "Foundling scum, come up here."

What now? He looked at Zeer who nodded at him. Just play along, the look said. He steeled himself and walked up to the wooden platform.

What do they want with me this time? His stomach did somersaults.

From atop the wooden platform, the beautiful landscape surrounding the prison camp presented itself to him. Ships were anchored out in the water and the forest of colossal purple and green mushrooms was only a few leagues further inland. A faint pink mist that he hadn't noticed before surrounded the giant mushrooms.

The captain strutted up to Ansel while signaling two other guards atop the platform. They both grabbed Ansel's arms and raised them, presenting his spiraling black tattoos to everyone. He straightened his back, determined not to look weak. If they didn't know about him before, they did now. He clenched his jaw against the tide of nervousness that grew in his stomach.

"The Foundling is Prince Dayne's favorite prisoner. If anything happens to him out there, the person responsible will be sent to meet the Divines with all of their Building. This goes for the Crimson Guards out there as well." the man faltered a moment. He must realize he's threatening even himself.

A murmur broke out from all the prisoners and guards, not understanding why someone that killed the queen would be protected. He didn't understand the prince's actions either. The prince was willing to kill his own men to get a proper shot at torturing Ansel. A chill went down his spine.

"Return to your formation," snapped one of the guards holding his arms. He shoved Ansel toward the exit of the platform. Is every Crimson Guard a bastard?

Once he returned to the formation, the captain continued. "These wagons are holding a mask called a Shroomveil. They are to protect you from the pink mist. The mist is known to cause hallucinations, sometimes even madness." The man cleared his throat again. "The Shroomveils will only protect your breathing. The mist can absorb into your eyes but at a much slower rate. These masks are the best protection you get out there, so be grateful to your prince."

"Once we arrive at the mushrooms, you will each take a knife. Cut into the white stalk and pull out the green wax inside. This is what we are gathering. You will fill as many bags with green wax as possible. You will harvest until a Crimson Guard tells your Building to stop. Only then can you return to our gathering place outside the mushrooms." The captain scanned around to see if the directions were understood.

Hallucinations and madness? What are they collecting the wax for? The thought of going into a mist that caused madness made his hair stand on end. He peered around to see the reactions of the other prisoners. They all looked desolate with lifeless eyes. Everyone except for the men from Building 49. He clenched his fists and pushed away the anxious thoughts.

"Each prisoner must return their knife before they are allowed back into this camp. If you don't return one, you will be left out in the mist with no Shroomveil. Left to the madness." A couple of the guards surrounding them chuckled. Another worried murmur spread through the prisoners. The same withered prisoners kept staring forward.

The captain clapped his hands together. "Let's get moving men. Only half the day is left and we have much to do."

Zeer motioned for Ansel to join him. They walked out of the camp in formation.

"The prince has really taken a liking to you hasn't he?" Zeer raised his left eyebrow and smirked.

"I guess so." Ansel smiled a little too. "He's willing to kill his own men if they end his fun. When he becomes king, we are all doomed." He whispered the last part under his breath.

Zeer peered around. "Keep your voice low and stick close." The man turned his head to talk to other men from Building 49. More horns erupted all around them, signaling their exit from the camp.

The main gate, a massive steel door, required men on both sides to turn a wheel to raise it. The gate screeched with each turn of the wheel. The Crimson Guards were sweating from the effort. Zeer paid close attention to everything happening at the front gate. Ansel burned the schematics of the place into memory. So that's what the key is for. Makes sense why he needs all the men from Building 49. That screeching sound will draw loads of attention.

A breeze passed through the throng of men while they exited the camp. The fresh air made him smile as it ruffled through his hair. A sweet smell rode the wind, and the bright sun was beating down with intense heat. He exhaled, relieved to be out of that nightmare camp.

They walked along in formation for a league. All the while, he took time to appreciate the luscious landscape. The land changed from muddy ground to green grass while the flat land turned to rolling green hills, similar to what he saw on the beach a day before.

The mushroom forest came closer inch by inch. Some of the fungi had green caps with purple spots, while others had purple with green spots. Dark green vines grew all along the white stalks and each mushroom varied in size dramatically. Some were short - only as tall as a man - while others were taller than most buildings back in Reven. The pink mist became more visible as they moved closer and closer. How close before the mist causes hallucinations?

He peered over his shoulder at the other formations behind. A river of people flowed along the landscape from the prison camp. A trail of prisoners all walking toward potential madness. A nervousness was building within his gut. He looked down at the spiraling black tattoos on his arms. Everyone knows who I am at a glance. I've got to stick close to Zeer and the others.

At the head of the formation, another horn sounded and everyone stopped.

The captain put his right hand up, silencing the men. "Form up by Buildings again and get your Shroomveils. Time for the Harvest."

Building 49 lined up and grabbed their Shroomveils. Ansel waited in line, standing behind Zeer. The brawny man grabbed a Shroomveil for himself and handed one to Ansel. He looked down and studied the Shroomveil, noticing the green base with purple spots. They appeared just like the caps of the mushrooms, but he would need a closer look to be sure. The material felt leathery and sturdy. He watched Zeer tie the straps behind his head in a double knot, then lower the mask until it completely covered the bottom half of his face. Ansel imitated him. The mask was uncomfortable right away and smelled queer too.

The captain rode up on his horse and cleared his throat again. "Follow the Crimson Guards assigned to your building. They will give you the knives when we reach the stalks." He rode off.

Ansel scanned the Building formation to his left and his breath caught in his throat. Sven and his scarred friend were putting their Shroomveils on while glaring at him. They were up to something. But would they really risk their lives and everyone in their Building for a shot at him? He needed to be wary.

He looked forward and noticed Zeer studying him while he watched the two men. Zeer turned around and followed the rest of the men. They were close to the edge of the mushroom forest. The mist appeared hazy and growing denser the deeper they got. The smell through the Shroomveil was sweet but off-putting.

He studied the Crimson Guards that led them to the Harvest spot. They wore superior Shroomveils. Their masks fully covered their face and eyes; they looked strange with their green base with purple spots. The two areas for the eyes were covered with glass. The Crimson Guards aren't risking madness or hallucinations wearing those.

The masked Crimson Guard pointed for him to follow Zeer and the other men. "That way, Foundling." His words were muffled by the face covering.

Ansel followed as commanded. His mouth dropped in awe at the scenery before him. He pushed aside some hanging vine and entered another world. His eyes darted around, trying to take everything in, one moment at a time. From underneath the caps, the mushrooms appeared to reach up and touch the sky. Light beams shot through the gaps and the light shimmered through the pink mist. The scenery was mystifying and beautiful. Little hook-shaped purple plants grew out of the ground at the base of the stalks. From within the forest, the variation in the size of the mushrooms became ever more clear.

The faint pink mist stung his eyes with a burning sensation. It feels like getting smoke in your eyes. He walked forward in a line behind the rest of the men in Building 49. A group of fifteen Crimson Guards followed. Five of them held whips and the rest carried bags of harvesting knives.

One of the guards cracked his whip. "Line up!"

One by one each member of Building 49 got a knife. The guards directed him and the others to walk toward an immense white stalk at the center of the clearing. The base of the fungi was so large that every man in Building 49 could stand around its perimeter and still not cover the whole stalk. He examined the base and noticed the dark green ivy crawling along the white stalk like a spiderweb. One of the guards threw a bag down and handed him a knife as well. Ansel reached out to grab the knife but the Crimson Guard held it firm, locking eyes with him.

"I don't trust you one bit, Foundling. Try anything and I'll tie you up and take you back to camp. I'll make sure the prince hears about what happens too."

Ansel nodded. No point in making things worse. Just focus on memorizing your surroundings.

He watched Zeer performing the "Harvest." The man had already cut away the ivy so he could cut into the stalk. He followed Zeer's example, enjoying using his muscles and mind again even for a menial task. The voyage from Reven lasted four months and the long captivity had sapped his strength. He was out of breath by the time he cleared an area similar to Zeer's. Zeer cut another circle into the stalk. The hole was the size of the whole rotation of his arm. Ansel carved at the stalk in a similar way and found himself exhausted after only a few moments. The stalk was thick and the knife they gave him wasn't suited to the task. He bent over to take a breath. A hot slash of pain coursed across his back. He let out a yelp, his right hand shot to the scores left by the whip.

"No rests Foundling scum," shouted the Crimson Guard from behind the green-purple mask, his voice muffled.

Gritting his teeth against the burning pain, Ansel went back to carving the stalk. He needed to carve out the middle area to get the green wax. He looked left again. Zeer scooped giant globs of green wax with his hands into a mangy sack.

"Hurry up before they whip you again," whispered Zeer without taking his eyes off his own circle. Ansel nodded.

He shoved his fingers into the gap from the cuts and pulled with all his might. A popping sound gave way to the inside of the mushroom. Green wax filled the hollow area to the brim. He reached in and scooped the wax into his sack. The goop was slippery, almost falling out of his hands every time he went to put it in the sack. He worked as fast as he could, not eager to catch another lash against his back. I've almost got all of it.

Suddenly, a strange piercing sound filled the air. A nail-biting screech.

The sound cut through the air like a knife through fresh bread. His ears rang painfully and his vision blurred. Nausea threatened to overcome him and make him retch inside his Shroomveil. He turned his head to see what happened to Zeer. The man slid into an underbrush a short distance away. His thoughts moved slow as a slug. Is he leaving me behind and escaping?

His heart grew heavy as a rock. He already lost the only person that believed his innocence. That's what I get for trusting him.

He looked behind. All the Crimson Guards reacted just like he had to the screeching. The men from Building 49 did the same, many bent over and frantically looking around with their eyes wide.

A giant crash sounded off nearby. Two birdlike creatures swooped in from above.

Ansel had never seen creatures like them in his life. They appeared to be giant four-legged eagles, each equipped with a set of sharp talons. They both had two massive wings. One of the giant eagles had a white feathered head and a black feathered body, while the other had a brown feathered head and a white feathered body.

Everything happened in slow motion.

They swooped down toward two Crimson Guards. The two men tried to run. To late. The razor talons ripped them off their feet. Legs and arms flailed and screams pierced the air. Screams filled with blood.

The giant eagles swooped over the mushroom caps and dropped the two guards. The bodies hit the ground with a thud and went silent. The creatures whooped around in an aerial maneuver toward Ansel's group with deadly precision and speed. Shouts erupted from all around him.

Ansel froze with fear. From the sounds all around him, there were more than just two. With all his might, he tried to move his legs but they wouldn't budge. Cold sweat beaded down his forehead and back. One of the enormous eagles screeched again. He fell to his knees. Another wave of nausea crashed over him. He fought against the sickness and glanced upward. One of the creatures dove straight at him. Those talons would end him once and for all. His body wouldn't respond.

At the last moment, a force rocked into him. The momentum launched him backward. A sharp pain erupted on the back of his head. He tried to sit up while his vision blurred. Thoughts floated by, hard to grasp. His vision slowly cleared. Two familiar faces stood over him. Sven and the scarred man from the ship, both wearing Shroomveils. He tried to get up, but they both put a foot on his opposite shoulders. The musical notes of chaos rang behind them. The sounds of a battle.

"We can't be blamed if he dies from going mad," the scarred man said. "They'll never guess it was us."

Sven reached toward Ansel's Shroomveil. "That's the best idea you've had in years, Flynn."

Ansel jerked his head away, trying to stop them from removing his mask. "You won't get away with this. I'll kill you for this. Get off me. " He tried to fight off their hands but couldn't.

"You can't do anything if you're mad," Sven replied.

Flynn got a firm grip and ripped off Ansel's Shroomveil. The man leaned forward, close enough to whisper in his ear.

"I told you I'd kill you." Flynn presented a rusty nail in front of his eyes. "A souvenir to remember you by." The scarred man cackled as they walked away. In moments, the pink fog consumed them.

Ansel groaned. The pink mist filled his lungs. The sweet breath of madness flowed into him. His body became heavier by the second. Is this really the end? The edges of his vision slowly closed until he was bathed in darkness.