They had managed to make it most of the way back around the swamp when Fabian noticed he was still quite tired and consequently having some trouble with his sense of direction. He decided to call a halt for the night. They'd been miniaturized for this long, he figured a few more hours wouldn't make a difference.

He found a large fern that offered almost complete concealment and, feeling in a generous mood, decided no watch was needed and let Brandon lay down for some sleep as well. The ground was covered in fallen leaves that made for a reasonably soft bedding. Even better, Fabian's nose detected the scent of some potent dreamweed growing near the base of the bush. He gathered as much of it as he could stuff into his pockets. He intended to enjoy some of it later himself, and he figured he could fetch a decent price for it back in town. If that stupid kobold could filch suckers for seven shillings, surely a genius such as himself could get at least ten shillings.

He pulled out the clay pipe he had stolen from that dirty woman's room and started to load it with dreamweed. He thought about maybe taking a couple puffs, but decided he was too sleepy to fully enjoy it at the moment and put it back in his pocket for later.

Brandon was already snoring loudly by the time Fabian laid down. Fabian made sure to keep a good distance away. How old was this kid anyway? Fourteen or something? Fabian thought it a little creepy to sleep in too close of proximity to the boy. Societal norms rarely crossed his mind much, but even he had to draw the line somewhere.

Fabian was out like a light before he had even quite realized that he had closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, sunlight was poking through the branches. Near as he could tell, he had gotten a solid six hours of sleep. He picked himself up and walked over to where Brandon lay still sound asleep on the ground.

"Stop being lazy and wake up," Fabian said as he gave him a solid kick to the ribs.

"Just five more minutes, ma," Brandon gurgled and started to snore again.

"I'm not joking around here, Scrote, it's time to get up." Fabian began tapping him repeatedly on the head with a stick.

"Okay, okay, I'm up," Brandon said, stifling a yawn as he sat up.

"I could have just left you here and gotten the magical cure myself, but lucky for you, I'm a nice guy," Fabian said. "As it stands, you've made me wait entirely too long for you to wake your lazy ass up. My time is precious and I won't stand for it. You definitely owe me big time for this on top of all the other things you already owe me for. I say you hand over to me one hundred percent of any treasure you find on the course of our quest and I'll consider calling us even."

"You'll really consider it, sir?"

"I promise I'll give it a passing thought. Now come on. Time's wasting."

It took a couple hours before they were able to locate the dryad again. Brandon actually first heard her singing in the distance, but Fabian refused to give him any credit for that.

"Oh, hello, cutie," the dryad said when she spotted Brandon. "You've returned!"

"Indeed I have," Fabian said as he pushed his way forward. "I have all your ingredients you required. Now chop chop with the spell casting."

"The disenchantment spell I know actually makes a magical elixir, which you must ingest. Are you in possession of a vial in which I can pour the liquid mixture?"

"For the love of Balthazaar, you didn't say anything about a vial. Do you think I just walk around with empty vials for magical elixirs in my pocket?"

"Never mind, I can forge a magical vial out of a blade of grass," the dryad said.

"Yeah, why don't you do that, then?" Fabian said as he bent over and pulled a handful of grass out of the ground.

The dryad chanted some words in an incomprehensible language and a vial full of a bubbling green solution suddenly appeared floating in the air.

"There should be enough there to return both of you to your regular size," the dryad said.

"Would you like me to drink it first to make sure it isn't poisonous?" Brandon asked.

"While normally I would think that was a good idea, I wouldn't want you drinking too much and not leaving me enough to get back to normal. No, I'd better drink it first to make sure that the important person is guaranteed to have the spell broken." He stepped forward, grabbed the vial and chugged the entire contents down. "Bleh, it tastes like ass, but it's definitely not poisonous."

"You drank the whole thing," Brandon said.

"Oh, calm down, Scrote. I need to make sure it works. Besides, you won't really notice the difference anyway. It's not like you were killing it with the ladies at regular size. Your love life isn't going to be any worse off than it was before. Now, is this thing working or what?" Fabian let out a loud and lengthy belch and suddenly started growing. He felt the top of his head carefully. "Hmm. Not bad. I might have even gained a couple inches."

"You're really going to leave me shrunken down like this?" Brandon asked.

"Fear not, cutie," the dryad spoke up. "I held some of the ingredients back just in case this one pulled something like that. I had a feeling he might. He has that sort of look about him. Please allow me one moment and I will whip up another batch."

"Thank you so much, ma'am," Brandon gushed. "I really appreciate that."

The dryad chanted some more strange words and another vial appeared in front of Brandon's face. He snatched it quickly and gulped it down. A couple minutes later he had sprouted up considerably. Fabian noted with some disgust that the kid might even be a little taller than him.

"Gosh, it feels good to be back to myself again," Brandon said. "May I give you a hug, ma'am?"

"Of course you can, cutie," the dryad said as she embraced him.

"This certainly calls for a celebration," Fabian said. "Let's all get high." He pulled out the pipe filled with dreamweed and proceeded to light it with a piece of flint and steel. He took a huge puff and blew a large cloud of smoke out. "Here, Scrote, have some."

"No thank you, sir," Brandon said as he released his hold on the tree woman. "I don't touch that stuff."

"How about you, lady?" Fabian offered the pipe to the dryad.

"I take more pleasure from breathing the forest air than that little plant could offer me," the dryad said.

"Suit yourselves," Fabian shrugged. "More for me." He took another puff and sighed contentedly. The world was beginning to swim around him in a most pleasant manner.

A spark suddenly flew out of the pipe with a popping noise and landed in a patch of dry grass near the base of the dryad. The old brown grass instantly caught fire and the flames begin to spread quickly.

The dryad began screaming in pain as the fire set her branches aflame.

"Oh no, she's on fire!" Brandon shouted. "We have to put it out!"

"With what?" Fabian asked as an intoxicated grin spread across his face. He couldn't help but find the whole situation rather silly. "I don't see any water around here, do you?"

"There was that brook we washed off in near the dwarf village! We have to help her!" Brandon took off running towards the meadow.

"Oooooh, pretty," Fabian said as he reached his hand towards the flames that were rapidly engulfing the dryad, as well as many of the surrounding trees.

"Hundreds of years I've been here," the dryad shrieked in agony. "And it all comes to an end at the hands of some mortal buffoon."

"Yeah, people suck," Fabian said with a shrug. "You can't trust any of them. What are you going to do though? It's getting a little hot here so I think I'm going to walk over there now. Sorry about your forest. And you, I guess. Thanks for helping me out, though. Better luck next time."

The dryad let out a final agonized cry before collapsing into silence. Brandon came running back with a bucket he had managed to procure somewhere. He threw the water on the burning dryad and it went out with a puff of sizzling steam. All that remained was a charred and blackened stump.

"She's gone?" Brandon said in disbelief. A tear rolled unbidden from his left eye.

"Yeah, it's a real shame," Fabian said. "You sure you don't want to get high? It helps you suppress your grief. That's how I got over my Nana getting eaten by that direwolf when I was eight years old. I smoked the pain away."

"No thanks," Brandon sat down and began to sob.

"Suit yourself," Fabian said as he lit up again. "More for me."