Remarkably quickly, William and Halsin both turned away from the very heart of the smoldering grove, just a few seconds after they had first laid eyes on it.
For a moment, they simply stood there in the middle of the scorched grass, two tall figures framed by the the natural beauty of the grove.
Neither of them felt capable of finding words that could truly capture the depth and gravity of what they had just seen.
Wyll the young warlock spun on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, shoulders drawn in as if he were trying to fold himself smaller than the world around him.
The rapier hung limply in his grip, no longer a symbol of righteous purpose but a cold reminder of how close he had come to catastrophe.
Halsin watched him go, concern etched deep into his weathered face.
The arch-druid, a figure who seemed to have spent centuries cultivating an atmosphere of peace and tranquility, now looked like a man whose carefully constructed world had been shattered in the space of just a single, heated argument.
With a soft, almost inaudible murmur, he followed Wyll closely, determined to catch up to him and prevent any further damage that might occur before Karlach's axe had finished its work.
William remained behind.
Taking a deep, deliberate breath, he released the air slowly, his nose twitching in response to the sharp, bitter smell of sulfur and burnt stone.
The clearing looked as though it had been badly wounded, with trees showing signs of blisters or damage and their tables appearing cracked or damaged.
The usual happy laughter of children had been replaced by an uneasy silence.
Just a short distance away, Karlach's breathing echoed through the air.
It was a deep, heavy sound, each exhale feeling thick and simmering, much like the embers of a forge struggling to remember its true purpose.
He found her beside an abandoned meal table.
Karlach turned her back on him, her fingers so tightly curled into the wood that the planks beneath them groaned in protest.
Beneath each claw, black rings were beginning to form, and the table itself seemed to be gradually succumbing to the intense heat emanating from her.
She fixed her gaze intently on the trembling surface, as if it were the very last thing holding her back from losing herself completely.
William approached slowly, hands raised.
Not in fear.
In respect.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle and reassuring.
He made sure to stop well away from her reach in order to avoid triggering her temper.
For a heartbeat she did not answer.
Her shoulders rose and fell in a series of gentle, almost imperceptible movements, as she seemed to be trying to wrestle down the storm that still raged within her veins.
Then, with a surprisingly soft, almost brittle crunch, Karlach finally managed to free her hands from around the table.
The grooves she left behind were quite deep and dark, almost appearing as black as charcoal.
She turned.
That dangerous glow that had once burned so fiercely in her eyes had softened, diminished into embers instead of the raging suns it once seemed to be.
When her eyes met William's gaze, there was an expression on her face that was both tired and kind, a look that suggested a warrior who had fought through a battle she desperately wished she hadn't.
"Hello there, soldier," she said, trying to force a smile that felt awfully crooked. "I've had better days, I must admit."
The simple admission carried more weight than any axe.
"Did you need anything?" she continued, her voice gentle again, almost sheepish.
William glanced toward the path where Wyll had disappeared, then back to Karlach.
He finally lowered his hands, a look of relief washing over his face. "I just wanted to make sure no one else ended up getting hurt."
Karlach turned her head away from him, looking directly out at the empty grove, and then slowly nodded her head in response. "Me too."
Surrounding them, the last lingering vestiges of the infernal fire finally began to fade away, giving way to the familiar, ordinary green hue that dominated the forest floor.
The table cooled.
It felt as if the air itself had returned, as if filling a vacuum that was just waiting for its fill.
The world, inch by cautious inch, remembered how to breathe again.
"Would you care to walk with me?" she asked, her voice soft, as she turned and began to make her way towards the exit of the grove.
William followed, while doing his best to avoid looking at her enchanting physique, the way her wide hips swayed with every step, the casual almost cat-like way her tail flicked, and the faint shimmer of heat around her made her a sight for sore eyes.
He gulped audibly and continued to follow her until they reached the vine-covered gate of the druids' grove.
A druid on watch saw the two and began pulling the lever that activated the enchantment on the gate, causing it to lift into the air and allow the two to leave the safety of the grove, entering the wilds.
The two of them continued walking along the path that went to the left, and they soon came upon a cliff that offered an absolutely breathtaking vista of the River Chionthar.
It flowed majestically into the far distance, its waters disappearing into the horizon and ultimately heading towards the ocean.
Karlach found a comfortable spot along the edge of the area and sank into it, letting out a sigh that seemed to ease the tension and anger that clung to her.
The dreamlike beauty of the surroundings seemed to have a calming effect on her emotions.
She sat there for a moment, lost in thought, before she finally noticed William standing behind her.
With a warm, friendly chuckle, she then turned around and gestured for him to come sit down by patting the spot right next to her.
"Sit there, soldier," she said, her voice tinged with a teasing tone. "That's an order, you hear? Hehehe!"
William, recognizing the playful energy that radiated from her, stands at attention with a slight bow and then speaks up, "Yes, ma'am!"
For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence between the two, broken only when Karlach finally spoke, her voice filled with a depth and intensity that her words could never truly capture.
"I used to be a proud member of the Baldur's Gate army, a soldier dedicated to defending the city and its people..."
She pressed her clawed hand against her chest that burned with infernal light.
"After demonstrating my dedication and bravery on the battlefield, I eventually earned enough merit to be promoted to personal guard for Lord Gortash, who was particularly impressed by my loyalty and her proven effectiveness in combat."
Williams' brows furrowed in anger as he heard the venomous tone in her voice when she mentioned Lord Gortash.
The intense pain and hatred she seemed to feel radiating from her caused a noticeable contraction in her already substantial chest.
"The traitorous bastard sold me to the hells and... They burned me, cut me put this... Thing inside me!" She clawed at the burning contraption in her chest, her claws digging in and leaving a trail of blood as if she was pondering tearing it out entirely.
William's hand shot out grabbing her wrist and pulling with all his might to remove her claws from her chest.
"Don't hurt yourself, Karlach. Save it for your enemies, save it for Gortash!" He smiled before continuing, "you can count on me to assist with your vengeance!"
A profound sense of conviction washes over William, as if the oath resonating within him is directly answering the words he just uttered.
His words brightened her expression and she smiled in appreciation.
"I may just take you up on that hehehe..."
They sat there in silence for another few minutes, and were just about to get up to leave when William's hair stood up on the back of his neck.
He felt the palpable magic energy surging towards a spot nearby and, without hesitation, turned and sprinted in the direction the magic was traveling.
Karlach followed close behind, her battle-axe already drawn from its scabbard on her back, ready for action as only a seasoned warrior can be.
William and Karlach, having crested the final bend of that narrow, twisting path, came to an abrupt halt as they took in the breathtaking view that awaited them.
Gale stood alone at the very edge of the cliff, his figure planted firmly there like a stubborn pillar against the relentless wind.
His boots were firmly braced on the rock below, rooted firmly in place.
Surrounding him, the very air seemed to shimmer and twist, as if being pulled inward towards a strange, geometric scar that had been carved directly onto the stone of the cliff face.
Runes spiraled through the intricate carvings, looping and twisting in a manner that was far too complex to have been created by a simple, ordinary druid's hand.
The wizard was in the middle of it all.
His staff, held aloft in both hands, was wrapped around the smooth wood, the knuckles of his fingers white with the exertion.
A steady stream of sweat poured down from his forehead, forming rivers that soaked into the fabric of his vibrant purple robes.
The spell he was weaving clearly demanded something far more profound than simply words and gestures.
It seemed to crave his very breath, his unwavering will, and perhaps even a small, irrevocable part of his own future.
A powerful, almost palpable magical force rushed towards him, appearing in visible waves as if from some ocean of infinite dimensional depth
Faint threads of light, like wisps of smoke, began to drift out of the forest and across the surface of the river, rising up as if they were curious spirits, responding to some unseen summons.
The flowing liquid seemed to effortlessly blend into the carved design, and with each wave that made contact with the runes, the entire formation began to radiate an ethereal glow.
First and foremost, a soft, delicate cobalt blue.
Then, for a brief moment, there were flashes of the most violent, deepest violet.
A vibrant blue light began to swell, mingling with a rich purple hue until the two colors collided directly within the heart of the stone structure.
As the light intensified, the once precise carving started to lose its diagrammatic quality, transforming into something that seemed to pulsate and throb like a genuine, living organ intricately embedded deep within the cliff face.
It was a sound that seemed to originate far off in the distance, like thunderous booms and the clashing of immense boulders coming into contact.
This powerful sound vibrated forcefully through William's feet, his ankles, and up into his chest, causing a jolt of sensation throughout his body.
By the hells," Karlach muttered, her axe held loosely in her grip, its edge hovering uncertainly in the air. "What in Avernus is this guy up to now?"
William didn't respond. Instead, he simply remained fixed on Gale, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he felt the raw power emanating from the other individual.
The light reached its climax.
With an incredibly bright, intensely intense flash of blue and purple brilliance, the pattern exploded outwards, radiating an intense radiance.
The air seemed to be crackling.
The wind howled and roared with a raw, furious sound.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed like the entire world outside that blinding light had simply stopped, as if time itself had paused.
After that, it finally managed to settle down and become stable.
The carving began to settle into a steady, rhythmic thrum, its vibrations pulsing with an almost heartbeat-like regularity.
Magic continued to pour into it, but this time it felt gentle and obedient, as if it were finally finding its place and being guided by a sense of purpose.
The sigil that represented a teleportation circle was now fully formed and visible.
Gale's arms finally gave way, dropping limply.
His shoulders seemed to droop, and he barely managed to keep his staff from slipping from his grasp.
The wizard took a step forward, then another, his body beginning to sway.
Finally, he lost his footing and collapsed onto his knees, clutching the polished wood tightly to try and keep his balance.
His face had gone ghostly pale from exhaustion, his eyes half-lidded, his breath coming in ragged, uneven pulls.
His appearance suggested someone who had wrestled a raging sea and managed to calm it down enough to be held comfortably in a teacup.
Before he could completely lose his balance, William reacted swiftly and lunged forward, grabbing him firmly by the shoulder.
"Gale!" William exclaimed, concern evident in his voice. "Are you alright?"
The wizard, despite his apparent distress, managed a weak, breathless laugh, his voice barely above a whisper. "Define… alright, my friend."
He wiped his brow, which had been dripping, and stared proudly at the glowing pattern that had formed beside him.
"But I believe," Gale said, her voice both thin and filled with a triumphant feeling, "I have just done something that is truly quite extraordinary."
Karlach moved closer, her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the trembling wizard. She then turned her attention towards the luminous runes, her voice tinged with barely suppressed amusement. "You certainly managed to scare the daylights out of us, little man."
Gale looked up at both of them with a tired but reassuring grin. "I apologize for the spectacle, but honestly, high-level wizardry doesn't exactly consult the comfort of bystanders."
William found himself exchanging a curious and rather intrigued look with Karlach.
Despite its extraordinary nature and the powerful magic that had just passed through, they found themselves arriving right at the very end of it, with a kneeling and visibly depleted wizard.
And in some way, it felt to him as if the day was just beginning to reveal its true, unfolding nature.