In the middle of a state lies a city. In the middle of this city lies a park. In the middle of this park lies a huge, old oak tree. Within the tangled, gnarled roots of the tree, that has stood tall for hundreds of years, is an entire system of tunnels, taller then, even, an upper dwellers house, leading to all sorts of places. There are those that lead to homes, those that lead to places of gathering. There is even one that leads to the upper world, but it is sealed off with magic. Here is one of the greatest civilizations of all time. The people that live under the roots of this faithful oak posses knowledge of things far beyond anything the surface dwellers can imagine. Magic and faeries, dwarves and pixies, and all the things that dance through fiction books only here it's not fiction. This world has existed under the under the earth for thousands of years. There once was a time when the two peoples were at peace with each other but that was long ago. When regular folks began to outnumber those of the magical sort things began to change. Regular people began to shun and even fear those with special. abilities. It came down to an all out war between the two sides. The war lasted for years; both sides suffered many large losses. Finally, to escape the sorrow and pain of war, the magical people and all their beasts created this huge oak tree and dug the system of tunnels under it. They put a magical barrier between the only way to the outside world from theirs. They thought their children what the "regular folk" had done to them, and their children never questioned the barrier. "Regular folk" continued to evolve and all memory of that once great battle ceded so far from memory that it was beyond anyone's wildest thinking. Some gifted people had a small amount of magic in them enough to remember the old ways and write about them. Those turned into our most famous fiction books. A great city was built around the tree. People didn't seem to notice, or care, that the tree somehow stayed alive through the worst of times. They unconsciously built a park around this tree, the tree that is now home to people who once were their friends.

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The lock clicked into place just as the clock stuck eight. "Damn, late again." Murphy Wilson said to himself. He was on his way to work on another gloomy New York day in late fall. It was clear the winter was coming and this didn't make matters much better. Murphy tightened his grip on his jam-packed suitcase as he flew through the halls of the tiny apartment building. Just as he got to the elevator the door slid shut and the shaft took off. "Dammit." He said as he raced down the stairs, trying not to trip. Finally bursting out of the door on the first story he swore as he realized it was raining. Grabbing the local newspaper from a stand nearby he held it over his head to ward off the terrible liquid. As he walked to the curb her held up his hand hoping there would be a taxi free. Success, an off-yellow, old taxi pulled up next to the rain soaked curb. Sighing in relief, Murphy opened the back door and climbed thankfully in. "The real estate firm on 42nd." He said to the cab driver that nodded and took off. Murphy placed the soaking wet newspaper on the seat next to him. As he happened to glance at the headline he gasped. It read: "MAYOR PROPOSES TO TEAR DOWN ANCIENT OAK IN CENTRAL PARK". Murphy was shocked. That oak tree had stood in central park for centuries. No one figured anything would ever happen to it. A quote from the mayor was just below the headline; "It is the site of many strange events, it is also a favorite place for vandalism." Murphy shook his head. What was the world coming to that they thought "I love you"s were vandalism. The cab drive noticed his surprise, "I wouldn't worry all that much." His rich Irish accent rang true and clear. "'Tis just a proposal anyway. I doubt it'll pass." Murphy nodded as he accepted this idea but something in the back of his mind still worried him about this topic. He pushed it away to ponder at a later date. Right now he had to worry about how he was going to squeeze a week off out of his boss to go down to Virginia to see his sister's wedding. He had been late so many times lately he was sure his boss would say no. With a sigh he sat back to enjoy his last few minutes of freedom before the hassles of work took over.

As the rain battered, off yellow taxicab pulled up to the real estate agency Murphy was shocked. A throng of people gathered round the front of the building. On long slender sticks of wood white paper with smeared words were glued or stapled on. The paper said things like 'Keep our forests rich' and 'Our children deserve fresh air too'. The people were chanting in an almost mummy like way 'Keep out tree' 'We have rights'. "Tree huggers." Murphy said with obvious disgust. He loved the sight of a forest as much as the next guy but these people too it way to far. He sighed as he pushed a crumpled wad of money into the cab drivers hand. "There's an extra ten for making it through this lot." He said and jerked his thumb back at the mob. The cab driver laughed as he watched Murphy get out of the cab. Murphy hurriedly pulled his black trench coat around him and rushed up the steps. A woman holding a 'Keep our forests rich' sign yelled to the crowd, "He's one of them." Murphy groaned and hurried on. He had almost reached the front of the mass when someone grabbed his suitcase. He did not, however, released his hold on it therefore jerking him back and nearly knocking him over. "Hey, let go!" He yelled as he pulled on his suitcase. The offender did so and he rushed to the front of the group. Finally breaking free of the press of bodies he hurried in. What he saw inside stunned him into silence and nearly knocked the wind out of him.