The Empress and the Leper

Cenias held his hand over his eyes, breathing deeply and heavily. He emptied himself of his shame and washed his face in the river; he shook his locks. I have to keep moving, Ailac, Xaneria, they are both still waiting for me, and still counting on me. He looked down upon his reflection for a moment, staring angrily at the weakness he had allowed to envelop his form. Placing his hands upon the water the keeper slid into it without making a ripple, assuming once more the form of a wild salmon.

Water flowed past easily, regardless of direction. He moved in it rather than through it, the liquid sustenance of life held no meaning within the dream, and had become little more than a pathway along which the watchers traveled. Emerging finally at the base of the mountain, Cenias swam upstream, form melting smoothly as fins changed to wings, and the falcon flew to the towards the peak.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Ailac stepped away from the pond steadily, never once turning to look backwards. The dream enveloped him, its swirling energies pooling in whorls as he moved, each step taking him across leaps in time and space here. Through dense untouched forests, across flowing plains of tall grasses grown up past his chest, over barren chasms of rock he searched, his mind drifting out to search for his companions.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The elder druid stood at the highest point of the mountain, wind wiped wildly around him. Standing in his Keldorei body, Cenias planted his feet and held his hand out over the ground, willing the earth to move. The rock beneath him remained still, a crack appeared in the rock, soil and gravel bleed outwards from it. A single sprout raised from between the cracks growing straight upwards. It twisted, a second sprout growing and twirling around it, entwining with it and thickening. Seasons passed as the vinelike tree sprouts continued to grow towards the outstretched hand, living wood changing shape and hardening. The living wood swirled, wrapping around itself and opening a fennel, becoming a long wooden horn coated in moss and thin leaves.

Cenias raised the completed instrument to his mouth, a horn of the dream. He blew into it, breathing his life force with the wind as the call of the wild carried upon the high winds of the mountain, reaching out across the vast expanse of the dream as far as it would be carried.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The deep bellow of a horn pierced through the air as Ailac walked, eddying the energies before his eyes to an image. Cenias was calling for him. Thin trials of clouds floated through the sky, shattered by the peak of the mountain, a small crack stood in the stone, at the feet of the feral druid calling with the horn.

Ailac closed his eye, taking hold the image in his mind and stepped forward.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The elder druid released the horn, feeling the air about him. The mighty roaring winds that ravaged the peak of the mountain ceased suddenly, and began pushing inwards towards the same point. The air swirled around itself while space clenched tightly together, compressing harshly as if in pain. The air itself re-opened like an ethereal maw, and a Keldorei stepped through, planting his feet firmly on the mountainside.

The wind tore at Ailac, billowing his kilt out to the side like a cloak and whipping free strands of hair about his face. Goosebumps from the chill formed upon his arms. He opened his eye to see Cenias before him standing firm atop the plateau, horn at his side. Despite himself, Ailac’s mouth twisted in a light grin to see his old friend. Nodding his head Ailac raised his left arm, waving a calm greeting.

Cenias raised his eyebrows lightly, taking in the form of the druid who stood before him. It was not just a sleeping druid answering his call, it was a familiar presence. And yet, it was not. He looked different, he carried a pride and a dominance within his normally passive and submissive frame. He had grown, he had changed. The corruption was no longer strangling his being, and the younger druids essence flowed freely from him. Yet, it was not the same as it had been before the Nightmare. It was unbound now, yes, but it soared unimaginably higher than ever before. He was free of more than just corruption…
Cenias bowed his head lightly in greeting then spoke,
“If it weren’t for your scent, my brother, I would have never recognized you.”

“Time changes all of us, finally it may seem I have regained those last three hundred years. But our work is not over, brother.” Ailac spoke calmly.

The elder druid nodded,
“Indeed. We can rejoice in your recovery later. Do you know anything of Xaneria? Is she not with you?

“No. The Nightmare claimed her before I could awaken us,” Ailac paused, his voice strained. “I need your help brother, we must find her.”

The watcher furrowed his brow. “I see. Let us take to the sky, and we will do all that we can for her.” He spoke while extending his arms, fingers extending and melting into light bones and feathers. Talons and beak formed while his skull became crested, becoming an elegant orchid stormcrow. “Do not mistake me though, she has become an important person in my cycle of life as well. I will not hunt out of favour, or out of duty, but out of obligation to a companion.”

Ailac nodded solemnly, his form unwavering. “Fly swiftly brother, I will search by other means.”

The orchid crow dipped its head lightly, nodding, before stretching it’s wings to their full span and taking off from the peak of the mountain, soaring into the open sky.

Ailac closed his eye, reaching out into the wind as the verdant energies of the Dream buffeted his body. He felt himself drift, letting thought and emotion float past him untouched amidst the swirling torrent of energy. He let himself spread out from his shell, drifting across the air and down the mountain. Touching each insect and critter he passed, seeing their sight and smelling their smell as he spiraled out from the mountain. Forests passed him by, followed by plains and streams, rocky crags and sweltering deserts. Outward he flowed, drifting along the minds of the wildlife as he felt for her presence, felt for the Nightmare that must surround her.

Cenius drifted through the sky; the wind currents did little to aid or impede his movement. Looking down below him the world was small. He opened himself, and expanded into the infinite. Soul intermingled with other beasts and birds that wandered the dream. Creations both real and ethereal of different shapes and forms. His spirit touched theirs, spoke with them, exchanged wisdom and knowledge of what was seen and felt, heard and sensed.

At once the Dream shifted, a wrongness rippling through the flows of energy. As if the vibrant blossom of the Emerald Dream was at once consumed by the Blight of Nightmare. Ailac withdrew into himself once more, letting one last thought drift out in search of Cenias.

“To the North brother, I can feel it.”

The beasts spoke to him, their spirits shared what they had known, and at once the gaping void that drank light and sanity became a swirling reality. There was location, there was form, there was existence, and there was corruption. A voice spoke in the elder druid’s mind, and Cenias replied to it. I know, I feel it as well… We shall go, and begin our search where the wound is festering with such vigour.

Ailac leapt down the mountain in long ground eating strides, dashing faster than any waking beast could have achieved. The forest was no hindrance to him, drifting between vines and creepers without second thought, pressing ever northward towards the blackness. Not slowing as the familiar presence landed beside him to join the run.

The stag flew through the windless forest along side of the younger druid, its hoofed feet striking the wilderness floor without sound. The two shared no familiar glance, gave each other no brief and knowing nods; they simply strode, breathing through the forest as unhindered as wind until the corruption grew overwhelming in presence.

Ailac flowed forward out of the forest and faltered. Clear blue sky replaced with boiling black clouds, flashes of murky red and orange dancing across the blanket of the clouds. The ground screamed as it was split in twain, great pillars of flowing rot spewing from the ground on all sides, filling the air with the scent of rotting fungus. The ground cried out as it was rent into the air, spinning madly into oblivion before the druids.

From the Maelstrom of earth and rot, arose Emeriss. Once a powerful Green Dragon of Ysera, now tainted by the Nightmare into a dreadlord of rot and disease. Its great scaly face towered above the druids, scales flecked with putrid moulds fading to a sickly blue hue. Great fungus sprouted down from its pale beard, dangling nearly ten spans from its chin. Bone plates of its underbelly grown into wicked spikes, stained a blackish red of dry blood. Fallen scales and fungus littered the ground as it moved, falling free with green clouds of spores that stung the nose with the scent of decay. Spreading massive torn wings the Dragon reared up, towering above the pillars of rot and forest behind the druids, letting forth a shower of acidic saliva as it roared into the churning sky.

The stag stopped, its white form amidst the trees as it beheld the terror that the dream enveloped before them. There were no words, no thoughts, no comprehension, it was truly more horrific than any waking scourge or demon. This was not corruption or Nightmare, this was a dragon, a servant of the god Ysera. All of that form and majesty, that austere and sense of dread in the face of true divinity that escaped description and made those with hardened hearts weep, now inverted. Now gut wrenching anxiety prevailed. The watcher looked on, and felt its bowels twist, felt its legs twitch in desperation. They sank into the ground, not from fear of running, but from fear that on their own accord they would grab its own eyes and burst them to drive away the sight. It would not work, it would be forever burned into the elder druid. Continuing to drink, allowing the cup to overflow of madness in overwhelming paralysis was all that it could do to keep from mutilating itself on the spot to rid its mind of gazing into oblivion.

The maleficent being crashed to the earth before the druids, its claws tearing deeper into the tortured landscape beneath its feet. Ailac stood bound faster than the strongest roots could have held him. There was no hope of escape, no where could be free from that crushing presence. Instinct fled from Ailac. No hope. Emeriss drew closer its eyes boiling with hatred, the great scaled jaws creaking open to devour the druids intruding upon its domain. Blackness filled the sky.

The stag watched the massive form move closer. Its movements were unnatural, and it almost seemed to increase in size while distance between them just began to rot and fade away. Cenias could feel it, it radiated from the ever-encroaching leviathan of oblivion. It was fury, malice, anger, but not at the two druids for any sin or trespass of their own. In the same fury one crushes an insect for little more reason than it has had the miss fortune to cross the threshold of a doorway into a man’s house.

There is no hope. We have to run. Xaneria is beyond us. There is no hope. I have to run. Ailac is beyond. There is no hope. I must flee. Flee! Run till your legs bleed and erode to stumps. There is no hope. The druid’s legs remained frozen, unable to even obey desperate fear. The maw of oblivion slowly opened as the divine Nightmare moved closer, the stench of rot and disease alone brought bile up into the druids’ mouths, even if they could flee they would stop to vomit and wretch. There was a glint in the forest, if it were not for the ever alert eyes of the stag, the watcher would never have noticed it. A small whiteness that moved in the distance. Perhaps. A glimmer and vanish, impossible to distinguish from a trick of the eye. A fawn…Cenias’ memory of impotence returned to him. How he had done nothing, how he could do nothing. Was there a single thing he would not destroy and break to regain what he had lost? What he had allowed to come? And yet it had happened; twice. Xaneria remained, alive and awake in a corrupted sleep of Nightmare and breaking reality.

The horns remained firm, strong and proud, bone white defiance as the bonds shattered, chains fell around the druid as its resolve returned in the face of corruption that had strangled even a servant of Ysera. This Dream has been entrusted to us, and our kind. We will persevere, we are eternal, we are the children of the stars, and vast beyond the dream. The druid reared, violently, thrashing with its front legs as its hindquarters turned and the stag bolted through the trees like lightening.

A faint scream shattered through existence, shrill and filled with pain, Xaneria’s scream. Time shattered as the scream filled Ailac’s mind, the great dragon’s maw frozen above him, acrid saliva halted in mid air like rain over the druids.

“Such a sweet screams,” a hollow voice cackled. “Wouldn’t you agree, runt?”

Ailac’s empty socket flew open, filled with a pure blackness like a bottomless pit, unseeing the dream around him. The Nightmare of himself stepped into view of his left eye. “Look at your weakness, were you all talk, runt? You take the reins to sit an quake in fear?” The nightmare turned, waving in the direction of the great dragon. “You could have had that power, immune to fear and thought. But you passed it up for your precious little friends, your precious little Il’dar.”

The Nightmare rounded upon him, a wicked grin of black fanged amusement upon its face. “Better run boy, or you’ll wish you had just let me take you.” Xaneria’s scream pierced his mind anew. “Do you really have time to stand here and soil yourself?”

Time burst into existence, Ailac throwing himself back from the jaws snapping shut with a spray of rot infested fluid, devouring the earth.

Trees flashed past in blinding succession. The stag bowed its head, lowering its antlers as a foot long splinter rifled past that had exploded out of the Dragons mouth when it had narrowly missed biting Ailac. Leaping over a fallen tree the blinding white flash continued surging forwards. The ground beneath its feet began to rot, the Nightmare infested divinity closed space as it flew along the essence of blight.

Ailac dashed into the trees disappearing after the white form of the stag. Rot tore at his kilt and clenched about his ankles, trying to snag and hold him for the Dragon to consume. Searing wrath flowed through Ailac’s pores, burning back rotting tendrils. Ailac pressed on, chasing after the white streak running through the forest. Rot filled his peripheral vision, overtaking trees and earth in a maddening pace.

The stag whirled, barely keeping ahead of the rot at his own pace. He leapt backwards, towards the younger druid, rushing past him. Ailac, you’re too slow, get on! The younger druid gritted his teeth, thrusting his fists back behind himself, two green arcs of wrath cresting through the air as putrid rotting bindings were cast off. Emeriss roared in fury as the younger druid’s hand smacked dully against the beasts antler and he flung himself onto the white streak.

Ailac crouched low upon the stag’s back, staring in horror as the Nightmare devoured the forest. Black vines devoured the forest to either side, running further ahead of the druids. Behind them trees split like melons dropped upon the ground, rot spewing forth to coat the forest floor. Death swept along to all sides, squirrels and birds dropping from tree branches like falling rain. A fox burst from its hole, screaming as blackened vines tore after it, leaving nothing but flesh and fur coated with maggots. Life wilted and was consumed, creeping up upon the pair fleeing desperately to the edge of the forest.

Mountainous jutting rocks became exposed as vegetation burned and bubbled in a sickening rot and blight. The mountain side the druids moved up became a trap, the flatland had run out, and their speed advantage that was only proving to be barely slower than the rot to begin with now vanished. A wave of death rushed past them as wildlife and wilderness alike exploded into disease and melted in a pool of rot that ran like blood over the rocks. Instinct now reigning the stag’s hooves skidded on rock as it spun around. Ailac, gripping the antlers, flipped forwards off of the stag, being launched higher up the hillside before the beast turned. Antlers melted together, becoming a horn as the stags legs turned into thick trunks and the druid increased in size ten fold. Flight changed to fight as the massive shagged rhinoceros kicked away the rot that had lost even its liquid form at his feet and was now dust. A powerful snort cleared the floating particles as with loud thundering footsteps the druid charged the Dragon, trunk like legs pounding the rock beneath himself harder than pistons within a steam engine.

Ailac twisted in his flight, bare feet skidding over loose rock as he pulled himself to a stop amidst the jagged spires near the base of the mountain. A forest of tumbled boulders lay before him over the base of the mountain, nearly 30 spans below the rot fell away as it crashed against the rock spire. Below in the clearing a massive rhino charged proudly forward, dashing in towards the towering dragon of disease. There was no escape from the Dragon for the rhino, with the mountain at its back and the flatland torn asunder by pillars of fire and poison. Surrounded by death and trapped with it. Ailac called out, power and song along his voice to coax up the sparse shrubbery of the mountain, entwining to form the living staff that felt so natural within his hands. Cenarius’ power flowed in his veins, filling him with life threatening to burst. The torrent unleashed, swirling energy filling the sky with grey clouds streaked with green life energy, drowning the unnatural darkness of the sky overtop the clearing. Ailac unleashed a typhoon of Natures wrath upon the wrongness, lightning scouring the rot and striking off the rotting Dragon’s back, trying to throw it aside while the rhino charged for flesh.

The Great Dragon never flinched.

The rhinoceros rampaged forwards towards the Dragon while stars and wrathful nature energy circled downwards, exploding dully against the hide of the monstrous being and deflecting off without notice. Emeriss looked down at the elder druid, and raised its right foreleg into the air, preparing to swing it down upon the rhino and crush it into the ground. With difficulty, Cenias snorted and veered off towards the left leg, the deep booming of the slow galloping thunder foot steps echoing while the right paw of the Dragon reached its height, and prepared to descend on the rhino.

Ailac thrust his staff into the rock of the mountain, feeding his force into the living wood to make it take root and flourish. Cells germinated and divided. Dust burst forth in great clouds, shards of rock ripped into the air as the roots sped down through the earth, tearing boulders and spires in twain. Corruption assaulted the roots burning and rotting them as they sped towards the dragon, each sprouting forth from the dying tip to press forth. Emeriss swung its mighty claws to reach the charging feral druid, yet claw met thick towering roots that burst from the earth at the massive paw, staving it off from the other druid. Emeriss roared fiercely for the annoyance, its mighty claws being entangled and slowed, fought back away from the druid to give it the opening for its charge.

With one of Emeriss’ legs momentarily suspended in the air Cenias was free to continue his charge towards the left one supporting the front half of the Nightmare Dragon. Lowering his horn, the watcher dug it forcefully between the toes of the clawed forearm, thrusting his head backwards to lift with all of his strength. The foot shifted, slightly, but enough to loose footing as the leg slipped out from underneath the Dragon. I would never have enough strength of my own, even in the Dream, to pierce the hide of Emeriss, even in this form. But if she falls, and brings all of her weight down upon the tip of the horn, then by her own strength we will tear her open. The rhinoceros snorted as its piston like legs slowed, pressing into the ground to hold its own while the enormous leviathan fell earthwards. The world slowed, sun rifling through the sky as the great beast stood beneath corrupted divinity, large bone horn raised in defiance to the exposed side that now descended towards him.

With whip like speed, the great Dragon’s tail struck the distracted beast, hitting it with bone crushing force despite its quickness. Cenias snorted, a grunted gasp as the jagged tail tore open his rough hide and lifted him off of the ground. He flew past the falling Nightmare, twisting and writhing in agony as he crashed down on the exposed rock surface of the mountain.

The living staff came to seed in Ailac’s hand, roots pushing from the earth to entwine the falling form of the Dragon. With a graceful leap he bound down the mountainside, energy pulsing forth across the field before him. The Emerald dream infused him, stretching his powers further than they could ever go. Locusts and insect swarmed from their spots amidst the rocks, a buzzing heap that swarmed across the form, biting at exposed eyes and flying at snout. It would not be of use, not against such foe, but it might create enough hindrance.

Ailac landed beside the fallen druid, now reverted back to his elven form. Loose pebbles slid free from the haste of his impact. A gaping wound lay open his side, blood trickling through shattered leather and bark plating.

“Hold brother, I’m no healer but I will do what I can.” Life flowed once more through Ailac’s form, trickling down from his fingertips like fresh spring rain to fall upon the rent flesh. Bone twisted back into place, knitting with audible cracks, flesh twined together roughly. The fallen druid did not cry out, mearly grunted as flesh fell into place, the healing rough but it would be all the power Ailac could stand. Below the Dragon threatened to break free.

Snatching a shard of fragmented bark from the armour of his companion he sped down the mountain from boulder to boulder. Wood glowed to his touch and hardened, a stout knife forming from jagged bark. Emeriss thrashed its tail, long arc faster than any whip, shattering the pillar of stone Ailac stood before, narrowly bounding into the air to dodge the blow. With a fierce kick he pushed off the tail, soaring across the gap to land upon the Great Dragon’s back. Spikes towered over Ailac’s height, jutting from scales spans across, yet rotting flesh pierced between cracks. Biting back the bile in his throat Ailac plunged the knife into sodden flesh, forcing the seed inside. Ailac shook with the verdant life flowing through his being, sweat poured from the exertion, a torrent threatening to sweep him away as he drove it into the seed.

Cenias stirred, forcing himself to sit up he groaned rolling over onto his side and forcing his knees under him. Forms flashed through the watchers mind, animals, lizards, insects, fish, but against Emeriss, what is there that can be done? We are little more than dust in the wind… The druid struggled, shakily forcing himself onto all fours. Fur sprouted, fangs extended as his spine stretched into an elongated tail. But even dust can still agrivate the eye of a king. The black panther rocketed forwards, darting from boulder tip to jagged rock outcropping in black streaks. He leapt off the last one towards the rising figure of the fallen Nightmare, wings shot from the pather’s shoulder blades, stormcrow taking flight and soaring higher towards the divine monstrosity. Putrid gas and disease seeped from the Dragon’s mouth forming a green cloud of death, surrounding the watcher. Wings beat furiously, enveloping a circle of wind to keep the corrosive blight away as feathers rotted from their touch. Formless once more the wings bulged incredibly with thick powerful sinews, muscles griping bone as flesh and meat formed and the great bear fell from the cloud, landing on the type of the snout of Emeriss.

Claws dug in, slashing in fury as the powerful form attempted not to fall from the scaly rotted face he fell upon. Finally finding his footing the druid pulled itself higher onto the dragon’s snout, the head whipped wildly, trying to throw it off. Raising a giant muscled paw the watcher pounded it down with fury in between Emeriss’ eyes, time and time again. The claws slashed and tore, tendons gripping rippling muscles to the bone of the great bear as it hammered the plate like scales and pulverized exposed flesh on the weak bridge between the eyes. Black rotten blood spewed, clinging to the flesh of the ferocious druid as the Dragon roared at the minimal annoyance, flinging its head up and swinging it downwards. No longer able to maintain his hold, Cenias flew the creature’s face and slammed into the mountainside beneath it. The watcher exhaled, all the air rushing from his lungs with the force he struck the rock. Emeriss vicious maw opened, the Dragon’s enormous, jagged, misplaced teeth exposed as she swung down to enclose around the stunned bear.

The seed burst forth into life, trunk crawling up and tearing apart scales as it sprouted amidst rotting flesh. Massive roots clambered down from the Dragon, digging deep into the earth and pinning the back haunches to the ground. The trunk climbed upwards, cracking and groaning with its rapid ascent, carrying Ailac up higher over the dragons back, great branches opening to the sky. Wood sung to Ailac’s call, branches wrapping tendrils past his arms for guidance. Thick branches whipped forth at a command, latching to the front legs of the Dragon and reaching for the sky. The wood strained and cried out, yet prevailed, lifting up the massive arms, drawing the thrashing dragon back just away from the feral druid, giving precious seconds for retreat and opening. Ailac collapsed to the branch, drained and weary, yet held the struggle, fighting against all odds to buy time.

Cenias grunted, feet thrashing wildly trying to gain footing as the bear rolled off of its side and kicked off of the ground. Muscles withered and faded, absorbing into the tendons as the form became miniscule and lithe. A tail sprouted, thick and bushy as a grey fox darted away from gnashing teeth.

The limber body of the fox darted with agility along the rocky ground, droplets of rotting flesh thudded around it as it leapt onto the base of one of the younger druid’s trees. He nimbly scampered up along the bark, leaping off of it onto Emeriss’ leg, small claws finding footing admits plated scales and continuing to dart upwards. The fox hoped back and forth between the tree and the leg as it moved, dodging bubbling boils and festering wounds that spewed toxins and rot, then leaping back onto the leg to avoid being over taken by cracking and growing bark.

Cenias landed on the Dragon’s back, small claws melted into large hooves as legs pushed upwards and grey fur elongated into white shaggy wool. Bone stretched and formed curled horns as the creature began running while transforming. The large mountain ram snorted furiously, hooves used for clinging to slippery mountainsides made quick work of the Dragon’s back, making the path seem as smooth to run along as an expanse of road. Emeriss saw the defiance of the creature running towards her head along her body, and in growing anger opened her vicious rotting maw to snap at the insect.

Ailac whipped his arm forth in command letting energy pulse into the tree, wood roared as it came to life. From above his head a great branch swung like a club, driving towards the open maw of the dragon. The branch hit home, splintering on jagged teeth yet held the jaws open, nearly 4 spans of thick dense wood. Anger boiled from the dragon, its mighty neck thrashing and snapping off the branch, a thick span still wedged in its open mouth like an enormous bit. Vines burst from the shattered wooden end, more from the leafy tip of the branch whipping and coiling through the air like massive ropes, hurled like harpoons back towards the trunk. Vines shot past either side of Ailac the wind of their passing dragging him to his feet. The vines wrapped around the trunk and up its length, a bit and reins tied off to the mighty trunk. Ailac gripped both as he drank of the energy of the Dream, its power endless in comparison to his own feeble control of Cenarius’ might. He heaved upon the reins and the great tree arched back drawing with him. Leaves danced along the wind shaken free, the tree groaning mightily as it drew up the Dragon’s head inch by hard won inch.

“Cenias! Strike now!” Ailac bellowed.

Cenias lowered his head, picking up speed as he flew along Emeriss back and galloped across her elongated neck, now beginning to curve upwards from the strain of the bit. The watcher ran along the neck, tilting sideways at the angle when with ferocious power the jaw of Emeriss snapped shut, crushing the mighty trunk between its teeth and splintering it. The neck begain to coil back towards the elder druid when, halfway along it, he kicked off powerfully, landing a giant splinter of the branch bit that flew from the Dragon’s mouth. New life erupted in the falling shattered splinter and the ram tore along it as a branch pathway lead to the divine Nightmare’s head. Snorting, the legs kicked the branch a final time, the charge ending as the thick skull of the ram struck home, bashing into the eye like a hammer against an anvil.

Emeriss cried out in rage, deep bellowing roar shattering against the mountains and forests. Blackness flowed forth from it in a shockwave, stretching out across the plains and mountains, devouring the forest. Trees burst into putrid fungus, the bonds bulging and shattering into puss raining down upon the barren field. The great tree twisted black beneath Ailac’s feet, rotting away and leaving him falling stranded. Wings beat furiously, a great wind spreading the rot and sending the falling druid soaring through the air amidst splinters of rotting wood. The ram flew back from the force of the roar, crashing and rolling across the rot slicked landscape. All brief fancies of false hopes died amidst the pulsing blackness.

The ram rolled on the ground, shagged hair mixing with the dirt as it righted itself. There was never a plan, there was never anything more than this. An Empress had reached out to push an unsightly beggar from his path, and the beggar had slapped his hand away. That was what the two druids had accomplished, and now the wrath of a nation descended upon a beggar’s insignificant spite. The ram’s horns split and formed antlers as front hooves changed into claws and shaggy wool was shed. The hippogryph kicked off of the ground and shot upwards towards the falling younger druid. Even the splinters around the falling druid turned into gas from the force of the rot and anger, seeping hatred and corruption that leaked from the infuriated Nightmare the insects had spit upon.

Ailac reached out desperately, catching the antlers of the darting hippogryph and swung onto its back. Acrid gas choked his lungs but he hung on for dear life, swinging upon its back as it burst across the sky away from the putrid fumes. Northward they sped, dashing across the sky away from the bubbling maelstrom of chaos. The Great Dragon’s roars echoed across the Dream, chasing them. Behind them they left forests and mountains boiling in rot and death. Entire forests drained in the space of a breath, no natural death. The Empress of Nightmare lashed out at all about her, fading back into the distance as the Druids fled.

The Druids sped onward, slowly regaining their senses as they left unnoticed from the chaos. Before them a new darkness crept up from the forest, drawing them onward. Each beat of wing bringing them closer to the fountain of blackness ahead. A dull ache welled in the hole left by Ailac’s left eye, a small fire growing hotter as they pressed on. At last they found it, below them the forest broke into a clearing, small with dense grass and ferns, and at its heart lay blackness.

Ailac leapt from Cenias’ back, fumbling weakly on his landing and dropping to his knees. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, drained his body completely. His left eye socket screamed with burning pain. Slowly he stood, drawing wearily to his feet beside the elder druid now reverting back to elven form. The pain in his eye spoke to him, spoke to the writhing black mass of corrupt vines, seething and pulsing yet cut at a fine edge, a perfect bubble never gaining nor retreating with the knobbed vines movements, darker than the finest obsidian.

Slowly he stretched a weary hand forward, hesitating slightly feet before the bubble’s edge. “She’s in there, Cenias. I can feel it,” he paused, his voice choked with fear and concern. “Xaneria…”