The Great Forest Road was old, much older than most roads in the kingdoms of men.
Its stones were centuries old.
It was said that in ancient times, elven armies marched along it to war.
Today it was mostly smoothed by merchant caravans, adventurers and an occasional saint.
The party marched forward in loose formation:
Fanática led the way, humming a hymn.
Gorzod walked a few steps behind her, axes hanging loosely at his hips.
Thrain grumbling that there are too many trees.
Erian, who used his ornate cane as a support.
And finally Liora brought up the rear, her eyes scanning the treetops.
Faná paused once, looking sideways into the green wall of leaves.
"Liora... your village is somewhere in these woods, isn't it?"
Liora didn't turn around, but her long ears twitched. "It is."
Faná nodded and kept walking.
They didn't know that another pair of eyes was watching them.
They were yellow and glowed faintly in the shadows cast by the forest vegetation.
---
Night fell, mild and warm.
They set up camp in a small clearing by the road, surrounded by old oak trees.
The fire crackled quietly.
Gorzod stood first watch, sitting with his back against a tree trunk, axes on his knees.
From the shadows beyond the firelight, a pair of yellow eyes still watched them.
The wolf was silent.
His gray fur blended with the moonlight, and he kept his ears pricked and his tail lowered.
He had been following them since noon, keeping his distance and observing.
A faint rustle of leaves - almost imperceptible.
The wolf turned his head sharply, alert.
Liora stood fifteen paces behind him with her bow drawn and an arrow firmly seated in the string.
Fletching was brushing her cheek, as moonlight gleamed along the arrowhead.
She spoke fluent Elvish, her voice low and cold.
"Why are you following us?"
The wolf held still for a heartbeat.
Its eyes darted once to the campfire, then back to the huntress.
Then, greenish light shimmered around the wolf.
It was a soft glow that looked as if fireflies caught in the wind were flickering within it.
Fur receded.
Limbs lengthened.
The wolf rose into an elven girl - she was tall, willowy, rivaling Liora in beauty but wilder.
Her dark auburn hair was braided with vines and feathers, her green robes were torn at the sleeve, and a fresh bandage was wrapped around her left forearm.
Her eyes still glowed yellow, pupils narrowing in the firelight.
She raised empty hands slowly.
"I seek help," she said in Elvish.
Her voice was shaking.
Liora studied her for a long moment - her sharp gaze tracing the bandage, the exhaustion, the faint tremor in her stance.
Then she lowered the bow.
"I'm cursed. Minimum effort once again became maximum effort." She sighed.
"Come. I'll take you to Faná."
Barbarian jolted upright as two figures stepped into the firelight.
He stared at Liora, then at her empty bedroll, and again at her.
"When in the hells did you-"
Liora ignored him, nudging the others awake. With her boots.
"Up. Up. We have a guest."
Faná sat up, yawning. "Oh! A mysterious visitor at night! How curious."
The party gathered - bleary, wary, and with weapons kept close.
The druidess, her name was Ariavelle, stood straight despite her fatigue.
She spoke in a common language with a melodious accent, choosing her words very carefully.
"My circle… we guard the heart of the Great Forest.
But a parasitic fey entity invaded our grove two days ago.
It was a thing of twisted hunger, neither fully fey nor fully corrupted.
As it fed on life essence, it warped trees and somehow turned our own magic against us.
My brethren and I - those who were still sane - fought it."
Their nighttime guest lowered her gaze a bit, before continuing.
"And we lost."
She touched the bandage on her arm.
"The corruption still spreads even now.
The path to other elven villages is blocked by bramble walls, and maddened beasts guard the passages.
Me and my remaining kin, we tried to push through.
But we were weakened by the fight and… now I'm the only one left."
A single, crystal-clear tear rolled down her face.
"I was determined to… go the other way and seek aid in human towns. With the Guild, perhaps."
She said it as if it was something very, very shameful.
"But then I saw your party on the road.
And I saw her."
She looked at Liora.
"So I watched. I considered my options. But she found me first."
The druidess hesitated.
"If you could help me breach the corrupted path barring the way to the elven villages. I have nothing to give you, but the community… they will definitely reward you for your help..."
She nodded to herself, as a plan clearly crystalized in her head.
"Yes, and they would mobilize their warriors and mages to deal with the Fey as soon as they find out.
To save our forest."
Faná clasped her hands.
"The Goddess has guided you to us! Of course we will help you!"
Ariavelle exhaled a sigh of relief.
"Thank… Thank you."
Faná stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on the bloodied bandage.
Golden light flared softly.
The wound closed and color returned to Ariavelle's face.
The team exchanged anxious glances.
"We shall leave at dawn," Faná decided happily, which was met with a sigh of relief.
Morning came misty and cool.
The deeper they went into the forest, the worse it became.
The leaves color darkened to bruised purple, and brambles twisted barring the paths.
Birdsong faded to some distant, distorted echoes.
Normal forest sounds were muted, as if the entire Great Forest held its breath.
Ariavelle led at first, carefully choosing the path forward.
But halfway through, Faná stopped her.
"I have a better idea."
She turned and went straight ahead toward the heart of the corruption, where the air itself felt wrong.
Elf girl blinked.
"That… that is the source. But the path to the elven villages-"
Faná smiled sweetly, without saying anything.
And just strode forward.
Ariavelle panicked. "What are you doing?!"
Thrain smirked. "She's good at… fighting corruption. You'll see."
Liora simply sighed.
Gorzod laughed low. "Brace yourself, lass."
Erian stumbled occasionally over protruding roots.
Seeing the panicking druidess, he tried to comfort her in his usual awkward manner, blushing from her proximity.
He stammered, "She'll help you. She always helps... always."
The corrupted heart was a vast clearing ringed by monumental, standing stones.
The ancient elven runes were carved deep upon the stone.
Once they were glowing with a gentle silver light, but now, they well pulsing in dim red.
Ivy and black thorns choked everything that lived.
Bare trees leaned inward like teeth.
A creature hovered above the central altar: a tall, twisted figure resembling a satyr.
It had elongated arms ending in nasty claws, jagged horns growing out of its head, and eyes glowing dimly with a red light.
It hissed something vile in fey-tongue when it saw them.
Around him, in the clearing, stood a few slightly bent, tall, and slender figures.
Their faces turned toward the team at the same time.
Lifeless faces.
Empty, dead eyes were surrounded by sickly greenish skin, and black veins were pulsing beneath it.
They moved like broken marionettes, their hands raising in corrupted spell gestures.
The druid clenched her teeth. "Brothers and sisters. We will set you free."
The party readied weapons.
Ariavelle and Erian started to channel their spells.
Faná charged straight for the fey.
The Corrupted Fey snarled and raised a claw - and summoned a towering wall of brambles, their thorns dripping venom.
From the forest edge came howls, and then a stampede - wolves, boars, even a massive bear.
Their eyes were glowing red with madness, as they were charging toward the group.
Faná struck the wall, turning part of it into golden motes of light.
It regenerated instantly.
The party was hard pressed:
Gorzod cleaving beasts left and right.
Thrain exchanged crushing blows with the towering bear.
Liora's arrows went through the unliving druid husks.
Erian and Ariavelle called forth powers of the elements - icebolts pierced beasts, lightning was called from the sky, and earth formed into sharp stakes, impaling encroaching beasts.
The husks in turn hurled toward them corrupted vines and necrotic bursts.
One of the explosions hit Gorzod mid-swing and threw him several meters into the air before he finally landed, breaking a small tree.
The team froze for a moment.
After a moment, the barbarian got up, spat blood on the ground, and growled. "I'm alive, but it hurts like hell."
Faná stopped trying to destroy the Fey barrier.
She closed her eyes.
"O Goddess of Absolute Righteous Fury and the Cleansing of All Corrupted Hearts," Faná cried with zeal, "let Your blazing light rend the unholy from this land, strip the vile from every branch, stone, and creature, and let no shadow of wickedness remain unshattered beneath your radiant dominion!"
Then she raised one hand skyward.
A vertical blade of compressed light formed.
It was elegant, impossibly tall, stretching from earth to the heavens.
She flicked her wrist.
The blade dropped like a dividing line, in a single, perfect cut.
It sliced through husks, through stampeding beasts, through bramble walls and through the fey at the center.
It carved a deep fissure in the earth - miles long, still glowing with radiant energy.
A canyon of light that cut through the rotten heart of the forest.
The fey shrieked once, and then vanished in a burst of fading golden motes.
The remaining Husks collapsed lifeless.
Beasts shook their heads, madness in their eyes clearing, and fled into the woods.
Silence.
Ariavelle stared, mouth open.
The clearing and central altar was split by a glowing chasm.
It was clear, simple, and stretched incredibly far in the distance, cutting the entire Great Forest in half.
Faná lowered her hand, beaming with satisfaction.
"See? The corruption has ended."
Ariavelle's eyes twitched.
She stuttered, "That… that was half the grove… and the forest…"
---
Somewhere far away, on a high watchtower in an elven village, a lookout saw the radiant blast tear through the forest canopy.
He remained calm.
Centuries of vigilance had taught him composure.
He descended without haste, found a young messenger boy, and spoke quietly.
"Tell that to the elders: the forest corruption has ended.
Alongside what looks like a good part of the Great Forest.
Tell them it's holy.
They will understand."
Later, high above the treetops, a forest eagle soared.
Tied to its leg: a letter sealed with an elven sigil, addressed to the diocese.
The eagle winged toward the cathedral in the distance.