“Rogaria was just the start?”

  Arrabi’s question was the first thing she said while the leporine druid, who introduced herself as Avilia, tended to Grant’s hand. Her healing magick slowly regenerated the damaged hand; any faster and Grant would feel the associated pain caused by unnaturally rapid healing. It was part of the reason why he once told his friends to learn about first aid instead of relying on healing magick. Considering how only he and Bartlett were proficient enough to do basic spells, that advice mostly fell on him.

  He returned to Arrabi’s question, about Rogaria. Grant was fully aware of how the Jubari government chose not to disclose much of the black magick that enslaved the gnolls, preferring to simply calling it a ‘wicked, inhumane magick’ instead of going into the details. They were worried that it would inspire someone else to take on the rogue wizard's footsteps, something that Grant agree upon. Not everyone saw the devastation as suffering as something despicable. It's just the nature of people.

  The Jubari government offered the status of hero to the soldiers and adventurers who helped them won the war, but Grant always knew it was just a hollow title, as do his friends, all of which were estranged with him when they decided to split after Bartlett walking away out of guilt. As expected, nobody knew they were considered hero by Manarithia, whose kingdom provided the soldiers to their ally. Grant did not feel this to be an unfair treatment. Being a former street urchin who, thankfully, met good people who managed to tell him that he was better than what many of the degenerates who looked down upon him, tempered his ambitions so that he would not be driven to be successful out of spite and desire for revenge. Perhaps that's just his personality. Whatever the case, it helped him got better in life. That, unfortunately, did not mean a strong will, as he had a weakness for alcohols.

  Now, that chapter of his life came back with a vengeance. He had an obligation to tell his new allies of what they would be facing.

  “Vyrnian magick was involved in that war,” explained Grant, while turning his gaze to Arrabi. “Whether you believe me or not, the gnolls fell victim to this magick, causing the tragedy you suffered. I’m sorry for not telling you about it earlier.”

  Arrabi shook her head. “We did not expect to face something so familiar. You don’t need to be sorry about that.”

  Grant gave her a smile. “Thanks. Anyway, about Vyrnian magick, the mage who abused it made it clear in his boasting back then. I didn’t know much about the magick itself, but I I learned a lot since then. Let me tell you something. It’s not as straightforward as you think.”

  “What’s this magick, to be so obscure and forbidden?” asked Avilia.

  “Eldritch magick. A class of its own,” explained Grant. “If you’re familiar with sorcery or shamanism, you got the basics worked out. Vyrnian magick took it a step further as you made a deal with beings hailing from Vyrnia, a realm beyond our own. It’s reserved only for those with pure malice in their hearts. Anyone with doubts won’t be able to use it without losing their sanity, or paying the ultimate price once it’s all done. In layman’s terms, it’s like verin. One taste, and you’re fucked.”

  Arrabi was taken aback by Grant's cussing. "I thought you're a gentleman," she commented.

  “Try living on the streets for most of your life,” said Grant. “You’ll learn a thing or two.”

  Arrabi rolled his eyes as Avilia finished the healing. Grant looked at his hand, giving it a squeeze or two. There was a slight itch caused by the rapid regeneration, but it wasn't crippling pain.

  “Just like new,” said Grant. “Thanks, Avilia.”

  “Don’t mention it,” said Avilia. “Now, how about if we return all of you to society? I’m sure Elusia wants some explanation.”

  Grant stood to his feet on his own, before beckoning Avilia to guide them out of the forest, not because he did not know the way back, but because he respected the druid. Arrabi and the Arctrosi followed close behind.

  “What’s your name, big guy?” asked Grant to the Arctrosi warrior-mage.

  “Stakunta,” said the Arctrosi.

  “How long have you been in the forest?”

  “15 years,” said Stakunta. “I was the only one who stayed that long. The only ones who stayed longer are Avilia and her druids. Alas, with the mother tree gone, my job's done. That's one chapter of my life finished.”

  “You can still guard the forest if you so choose, Stakunta,” said Avilia. “With the mother tree gone, this forest needs to nurture a new one to keep it alive. I’ll tell the Wild Ones to begin immediately.”

  She touched a nearby tree and whispered something under her breath. Once she was done, Grant asked a question.

  “I’ve never seen a hare person before,” he said as he looked down, towards her hoofed feet. “Not to mention one that’s part deer.”

  “I’m a jackalope,” she replied. “I may not look like it, but I'm a faerie. I chose to stay when my people left this world to the faerie realm. I became a druid to complement my affinity to nature.”

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  “A faerie,” said an intrigued Arrabi. “I’ve only read about them. I can’t believe they’re real.”

  “So, how come a faerie like you got to become the protector of this forest?” asked Grant.

  “I came here long before the druidic community was established, though I was not the first druid roaming this forest. A long time ago, this forest was home to the Wild Ones, and still is. They are people, not necessarily druids, who lost control of their wild forms either due to carelessness or accident. These people were barely able to hold on to their humanity due to their animal instinct overwhelming them. The druids, the original practitioner of magick of Clydeth, taught these Wild Ones how to make peace with their animal instinct, as they once did. I was inspired to learn druidic magick and protect this forest, partially because I needed a purpose after choosing to stay. I had a long time mulling over this, so I had no regrets staying."

  "And that tree had existed long before then?" asked Grant.

  "That tree grew from a seedling into a mother tree long before I was here. It was corrupted by the first settlers of the forest, people hunted by Wyrithians from six hundred years ago, long before Clydeth was established. They were the first who fell against the tree. Its nature as a mother tree prohibited the druids from cutting it down, but many warriors fell against it, so the Wyrithians back then made the structure you saw to contain it while also appointing mages who would keep it behind a barrier. Over time, the community grew into what you see now, but the Wyrithians were replaced by Clydethians and the druids."

  "I'm surprised nobody was able to destroy the tree in the intervening six hundred years," commented Grant. "I'm even more surprised you're that old."

  "Perhaps they thought sealing it was easier than just destroying it," said Avilia.

  "How about you? Why don't you use faerie magick?"

  Avilia gave a stern look at Grant. "I hope you're not serious about it. Faerie magick is chaos magick. By luck, I could destroy that tree, or I could turn it into something worse. Our magick is similar to what you described Vyrnian magick, but much more unpredictable."

  "Okay, I get it," said Grant. "But you could--"

  "I said no. I don't feel lucky."

  There was a silence among them as Avilia finished. Grant was the first who broke the silence.

  “I also wish to ask you something else,” asked Grant. “Stakunta mentioned a wild-shifted rival druid his team killed. Do you know something about that?”

  Avilia’s expression changed. “That man was not a druid. He was disguising himself with a human skin, not wild-shifting. Whatever method he used was similar, but grotesque. He left his human skin around when he shed it. It looked like a flayed human, though without the blood, thankfully.”

  Arrabi was horrified upon hearing that. The mental image of a flayed human made her want to puke.

  “An agent to our mysterious enemy, then,” pondered Grant. “We should tell everything to the druid leader, warn them of the danger. I just hope they’re not close-minded to the situations beyond this forest.”

  To Grant’s relief, that was not the case, possibly due to Avilia’s influence. After they returned to a more or less healthier people in the community, they decided to take some rest, with Grant checking on the letter that Pawa delivered to him before the whole incident. He read the content of the letter intently, silently pondering of the situation outside. He made his decision to honor the content of the letter when the community was called into a meeting, one where Grant was the main speaker.

  Grant presented his case to Elusia with Avilia and Stukanta vouching for him, all while Arrabi and the other members of the community listening in silence. After a short, but meaningful explanation, there was a murmur among the members of the community while Elusia took it all in with silence. Grant could tell from the elf's expression that she regarding his warning seriously.

  Once the murmurs became more frequent and threatened to escalate, Elusia began to speak.

  “We must thank Grant for saving us,” said the leader. “Alas, it is not the end of our problems. Begin preparation for defenses. We may be a peaceful people, but we are not going to let dark magick ruin this community."

  The druids all agreed and walked out of the hall through the open arches all around it, discussing among themselves what they should do and what they should prepare against such dark magick. Grant could hear some were worried that they couldn’t do anything if their enemies happened to turn the trees against them. A valid worry for the druids whose domain was made out of living trees.

  Once the last of the druids and affiliates were gone, the leader returned her attention to Grant.

  “We would like you to stay around and help against this magick, since you have clearly prepared yourself against it,” said the leader. “Yet, I have a feeling that you won’t stay.”

  “You guessed it,” said Grant. “I received a letter from Pawa earlier today. He went to my cabin to deliver the letter and warned me of the developing problem when he started noticing druids falling left and right. During the time you were recovering, I opened and read the letter. It’s from my old friend, asking to meet him in Camarth on an urgent matter. He told me what transpired in Manarithia, specifically his home in Aldimar."

  “Camarth, the capital city of Manarithia, right? It’s quite a travel from here.”

  Grant nodded, then continued. "He said there was an attempted invasion by the Wyrithians in his home further south. The letter also gave me the name to the mysterious reptilian infiltrator: Sybarian. He faced them alongside his new allies, but is not left to deal with the fallout. He asked me to help him, considering I'm the closest of an expert when it comes to Vyrnian magick that he personally knew. Though, I'm not sure our reunion's going to be a pleasant one."

  “Then go and help your friends,” said the leader. “You have done a great service for us. We don’t know how to thank you."

  "Just make sure my cabin’s still there when I’m back,” remarked Grant while making a smile. “Wouldn’t want you to think I’m not coming back. Once this is all over, I intend to resume my retirement.”

  “And you shall,” said the leader. “When will you be leaving?”

  “As soon as I taught some of the mages on how to counter against Vyrnian magick,” replied Grant. He turned to Arrabi. “You coming?”

  “While I am interested in seeing Manarithia for the first time, I must pass,” said Arrabi. “This community is my home, and it's my obligation to protect it. Your obligation is elsewhere, but you better teach me the magick so that we can develop it.”

  "That's the idea."

  "And when this is all over, I hope you can take me to Manarithia. I heard they rule the sky with their dragons."

  "I'd be glad to."

  The two exchanged smiles before Grant walked away, back towards his home. He never thought he would have to deal with something he suspected a long time ago, only to walk away due to having fed up with the world and the dark reality of being an adventurer. He was always hoping that the mage they killed was the end of that problem, not wanting to believe that no one would be insane enough to take up Vyrnian magick, not when the consequences would override the benefits.

  Well, he sounded like a fool now. Of course, there’s always a bigger fish. Of course, there’s always a madder person. There was no changing that, so Grant relied on the one thing he did best.

  Be a good man and save the world.