A cataclysmic explosion scorched the magic planetarium.
The vibrant hues of the realm's flora were reduced to smouldering ashes, devoured by the ethereal lilac sparks. A deed wrought by a druid who chose to immolate himself with the volatile Protos particles.
The carved skull of the treasonist was already akin to a hunk of cinder, yet his agape maw still uttered a phantom shrill. Alicia was about to dispel her magical barrier due to sheer distress, but numerous crows that careened onto the protective dome and exploded their guts served as her stark discouragement.
From all directions of the hallway, unfamiliar figures emerged from each of the patio doors. Figures alien to the forest magi, yet all too familiar to Alicia, never mind the Magisterium's magical colleagues. Who else could they be if not part of the enigmatic masked mage faction adept at Protos particles? A quaint assembly that both existed and did not exist in the same breath!
Before time marched on, there came a relief: human casualties in the incident were nigh nonexistent—save for the renegade defector, of course. Such fortitude owed much to Alicia's steadily honed Arcane force field.
Nevertheless, the central narrative remained a cause for concern. Broin observed the azure luminescence and the twinkle of stars that safeguarded all present from the clutches of death. The girl's laboured breaths did not escape his notice, stirring unease within his heart.
"Miss Alicia! Are you unscathed?"
The girl's sharp-arched eyebrows and pursed lips suggested otherwise. Beads of cold sweat graced her brow, further evidence of her bearing from the devastating explosion.
"This is worrying," Haddock approached them both. "If Vanir alone can be infiltrated by this kind of radicalism, no place is ever safe anywhere in the world!"
"But we are already conducting deep, intensive sweeps to eradicate these radicals from the land of Vanir!" Broin argued.
The Grand Magus strode towards the protective dome. His countenance was grave. "Not deep enough."
Wands of diverse lengths were already pointed at the black magicians. Odelie, the only astrologist in the assembly, magically pulled out an old magical mechanisation—a gold-plated half sphere adorned with intricate cavities of diverse shapes and encircled by delicate gold wires. The astrologists' signature weapon, Faith Catalyst.
One must admit, the defecting druids possessed a more refined taste for masks than that of the Wizardry practitioners. They donned wooden visages, each sculpted into monstrous faces of grotesque nature, multiplied by their distorted appearances. But all those pawns paled in comparison to the appearance of a mage descending from the open sky, accompanied by grasshopper-like creatures with canine proportions. The words "Sprinkhonds" resounded amongst the anxious pious druids, for such was their name. Each possessed two sets of spring-loaded legs, as well as a pair of raptorial limbs at the front, each tipped with a razor-sharp blade.
The Mothman, the insect mage, returned to haunt Alicia Crimsonmane.
As the only insect mage, he exhaled as he witnessed the entire garden burnt. "Hnnggg... poor little fellow. This lack of artistic sense in this fool makes humans fear what Khaos could do hnnngggg," the mage said as he cradled a burnt butterfly whose delicate wings had been reduced to ash.
After that, he rose. Step by step, the scorched plants crumbled beneath his boots. The Mothman drew closer to Alicia's bridge nose behind the barrier once more—a nostalgia for bygone days. Buzzings aired, infiltrating the Arcane force field.
"Hnnnnggggg you bring for yourself a lot of company, young lady," the Mothman greeted in his guttural voice.
"Please, don't waste any more of your time. My answer’s still the same." Alicia responded firmly despite her still panting breath.
"Oh, thank you for not being pleonastic, then! Hnnggg fellas! Flick her shield until she dies!" Just like that. Not grandiose. the insect mage instantly turned around, followed by a barrage of black magic projectiles!
As the black wizards unleashed their spells, bolstered by the power of Protos particles, the druids who had pledged their allegiance to Khaos joined hands to recite prayers. The ground shook and cracked, a surge of violet light radiating from the crevices, inching ever closer to the boundary of the protective Arcane dome.
"Lord Bifrovs, who glances from the hollows of trees and the reflections of gemstones! Bestow new inspiration upon the Tree of the Universe. Let its branches turn to caress us and the knowledge of the universe brings down your opponents!"
The air of Khaos suffocated all chests. Alas, the Tree of Knowledge, no longer a sanctuary of Arcane power, now stood as a new palace of pride for the unholy Khaos energy. Such sacrilege was anathema to the practitioners of Druidism! The Tree of Knowledge instantly decayed before Alicia and the magi. Its sacred leaves shed, and the once-nestled squirrels plummeting lifelessly from its branches. Jagged roots erupted from the earth, impaling several druids and flinging them aside with brutal force!
"Alicia, watch out!" Arcane's magic shield broke as Haddock thrust Alicia away from the tree roots about to sweep away the Magisterium vermin. As a consequence, more souls, both from the druids and the Magisterium, succumbed to the relentless onslaught of Khaos magic. Their formation altered disarray, surrounded on all sides by the encroaching masked black magi.
Broin cast a limp gaze towards the Tree of Knowledge as it hoisted itself from the soil, and turned into a monstrous giant mandrake. Gone was the hope of Vanir, a cherished heritage guarded for millennia. Ohher might no longer grace them with his presence as the Riser of Plants when the druids proved unable to guard the sacred tree.
Trapped within a building towering yet confining, the mandrake's body brought down a wall full of murals of Vanir's history. Fortunate it was that this Tree of Knowledge mandrake remained mute, for had it emitted its wailing screech, Alicia and her comrades would have surely perished. More than that, these masked mages were certainly not engaging in mere dalliances. This marked the umpteenth time that their “pranks” had razed magical landmarks from various countries, and yet, none of the law enforcers could sniff at the noxious genesis of their odour!
Haddock and the wizards took the initiative to weave layered protective magic in place of Arcane protection, while the druids were still busy scattering in the garden. They tried their best to coax the woodbines and the bears to heed their commands with their prayers. The Mothman assailed the wizard group's magical defences with his legions of insects, while his faithful sprinkhonds continued rending bears asunder and cleaving through the careless nature magi.
"Alicia, bless us all with Arcane!" Haddock ordered.
Broin's eyes widened as he heard Haddock's plea. A glimmer of hope to be gleaned from this mess. A touch of Divine Grace, a force he had not experienced in half a century. Alicia then turned and spread the blue ley lines to all allied parties. This was it; the coveted Arcane returned to content them all!
The spirits of the druids—including Broin’s and the bears’—soared with renewed vigour. "Thank you for the Arcane might, Alicia," the aged druid gratefully acknowledged. Filled with newfound confidence, they turned as one, united against the ranks of the defectors, both druids and wizards alike.
"O earth, and all the roots that tread the realm, heed my call! Arise as new creatures, subdue those who stand in your chaste path!"
Broin and his two comrades uttered the prayer, and from the ground, three majestic white trees burgeoned forth. These arboreal beings entwined and entangled themselves around the corrupted black flora of the Khaos-afflicted druid champions. The pure essence of the white trees seeped into the darkened foliage, overpowering the malevolence within. With a burst of energy, the white trees then unleashed their branches, ensnaring the wicked mages and flinging them through the air, casting them aside like forsaken ragdolls. Arcane and Khaos's trees grappled in a clash of energies until both withered and reduced to lifeless husks.
Meanwhile, the giant mandrake was still rampaging, and now they were serving its fury. Broin and the others immediately rushed there. Several wizards were already flying around on their magic brooms to slash at the tree's ugly, wrinkled visage, while the druids were reciting another prayer to the late Tree of Knowledge to put it to its final rest.
"Look down—look down at us, a scattering of spores dancing amidst the horizon! Behold, this is your dwelling place. He who has died will one day bring more life. Come, and cover him with your life force. You will, through him, brighten the face of the earth for another thousand years!"
It was natural that something touched by Khaos would be damaged if not die. But the Divine Grace altered everything. In the cracks of the purplish bark, mosses suddenly sprouted at Mandrake's feet, from which the Arcane destroyed the entire tissue of Khaos. The lichens multiplied so quickly that the creature could not feel its feet and collapsed!
The Arcane's might barrage had disfigured the countenance of the mandrake, and the mosses were increasingly filling its being. The mandrake appeared to have "regained consciousness", and springs were flowing from both eyes. It was in great agony and could no longer endure the struggle between Arcane’s mosses and Khaos' tissues. Until Arcane covered almost the entire wrinkled face, its eyes concluded apologies, especially to the druids who had served it for countless years. Moss gnawed at its eyes.
The Tree of Knowledge was once again perished.
Broin approached, palpating the mossy trunk of the sacred wood. He wanted to mourn. Oh, he would have that mourning, he vowed. Soon, after the infernal black mages faced their comeuppance. His hands clenched, and he began to shout a war cry to the entire realm!
"This place is no longer holy, so their blood is lawful! Sacrifice them all, without a single one remained! Let their own blood nourish the soil, so that it may become pure again! Nature has been angered, so she will correct any defects in her!"
A shout that was met by other shouts of druids and maddened bears. This was not merely a battle cry. This was a prayer.
From the earth, an astonishing sight unfolded—a colossal sprout emerged, blossoming into a fearsome flower with a snouted visage. An adage from Ohher, the druids called the plant the Hunger Petal. Not just one, but five more of these menacing blooms sprouted from every direction. Each plant bore three jagged-snouted flowers akin to sea sharks!
Furthermore, an array of untamed birds soared out from the opening in the ceiling and swooped down upon those with foul hearts. While a black wizard was busy fending off a hræsvelgr hawk or cockatrice that was about to tear the flesh off his face, hunger petals targeted his weak legs and pulverized him. The carnivorous birds were left with only the blood that seeped from behind the plant's serrations. Nature was fierce.
Odelie hastily pulled Alicia's hand to shield her from witnessing too much horror. Broin, too, concurred with the astrologist's actions. "Nature is in her wrath! Get Alicia out of here immediately!" he said. "I wish you a successful journey!"
"Sir Broin, what about you? You should go as well!" In the brief period they had spent together, Alicia had already grown deeply concerned for the druids, especially the elderly Broin.
"Young lady, you've given me the Arcane might! That's more than enough to buy them time! Go, now!"
"Come on, Alicia! It's not safe here!" Odelie then dragged the girl away.
"Alicia, come with Odelie and the others!" Haddock, too, ordered. He and Bartholomew were preoccupied with battling the Antrhomania activist, the Mothman himself.
Alicia complied. She entrusted her movements to sister Odelie, guiding her into one of the patio doors. []
A cataclysmic explosion scorched the magic planetarium.
The vibrant hues of the realm's flora were reduced to smouldering ashes, devoured by the ethereal lilac sparks. A deed wrought by a druid who chose to immolate himself with the volatile Protos particles.
The carved skull of the treasonist was already akin to a hunk of cinder, yet his agape maw still uttered a phantom shrill. Alicia was about to dispel her magical barrier due to sheer distress, but numerous crows that careened onto the protective dome and exploded their guts served as her stark discouragement.
From all directions of the hallway, unfamiliar figures emerged from each of the patio doors. Figures alien to the forest magi, yet all too familiar to Alicia, never mind the Magisterium's magical colleagues. Who else could they be if not part of the enigmatic masked mage faction adept at Protos particles? A quaint assembly that both existed and did not exist in the same breath!
Before time marched on, there came a relief: human casualties in the incident were nigh nonexistent—save for the renegade defector, of course. Such fortitude owed much to Alicia's steadily honed Arcane force field.
Nevertheless, the central narrative remained a cause for concern. Broin observed the azure luminescence and the twinkle of stars that safeguarded all present from the clutches of death. The girl's laboured breaths did not escape his notice, stirring unease within his heart.
"Miss Alicia! Are you unscathed?"
The girl's sharp-arched eyebrows and pursed lips suggested otherwise. Beads of cold sweat graced her brow, further evidence of her bearing from the devastating explosion.
"This is worrying," Haddock approached them both. "If Vanir alone can be infiltrated by this kind of radicalism, no place is ever safe anywhere in the world!"
"But we are already conducting deep, intensive sweeps to eradicate these radicals from the land of Vanir!" Broin argued.
The Grand Magus strode towards the protective dome. His countenance was grave. "Not deep enough."
Wands of diverse lengths were already pointed at the black magicians. Odelie, the only astrologist in the assembly, magically pulled out an old magical mechanisation—a gold-plated half sphere adorned with intricate cavities of diverse shapes and encircled by delicate gold wires. The astrologists' signature weapon, Faith Catalyst.
One must admit, the defecting druids possessed a more refined taste for masks than that of the Wizardry practitioners. They donned wooden visages, each sculpted into monstrous faces of grotesque nature, multiplied by their distorted appearances. But all those pawns paled in comparison to the appearance of a mage descending from the open sky, accompanied by grasshopper-like creatures with canine proportions. The words "Sprinkhonds" resounded amongst the anxious pious druids, for such was their name. Each possessed two sets of spring-loaded legs, as well as a pair of raptorial limbs at the front, each tipped with a razor-sharp blade.
The Mothman, the insect mage, returned to haunt Alicia Crimsonmane.
As the only insect mage, he exhaled as he witnessed the entire garden burnt. "Hnnggg... poor little fellow. This lack of artistic sense in this fool makes humans fear what Khaos could do hnnngggg," the mage said as he cradled a burnt butterfly whose delicate wings had been reduced to ash.
After that, he rose. Step by step, the scorched plants crumbled beneath his boots. The Mothman drew closer to Alicia's bridge nose behind the barrier once more—a nostalgia for bygone days. Buzzings aired, infiltrating the Arcane force field.
"Hnnnnggggg you bring for yourself a lot of company, young lady," the Mothman greeted in his guttural voice.
"Please, don't waste any more of your time. My answer’s still the same." Alicia responded firmly despite her still panting breath.
"Oh, thank you for not being pleonastic, then! Hnnggg fellas! Flick her shield until she dies!" Just like that. Not grandiose. the insect mage instantly turned around, followed by a barrage of black magic projectiles!
As the black wizards unleashed their spells, bolstered by the power of Protos particles, the druids who had pledged their allegiance to Khaos joined hands to recite prayers. The ground shook and cracked, a surge of violet light radiating from the crevices, inching ever closer to the boundary of the protective Arcane dome.
"Lord Bifrovs, who glances from the hollows of trees and the reflections of gemstones! Bestow new inspiration upon the Tree of the Universe. Let its branches turn to caress us and the knowledge of the universe brings down your opponents!"
The air of Khaos suffocated all chests. Alas, the Tree of Knowledge, no longer a sanctuary of Arcane power, now stood as a new palace of pride for the unholy Khaos energy. Such sacrilege was anathema to the practitioners of Druidism! The Tree of Knowledge instantly decayed before Alicia and the magi. Its sacred leaves shed, and the once-nestled squirrels plummeting lifelessly from its branches. Jagged roots erupted from the earth, impaling several druids and flinging them aside with brutal force!
"Alicia, watch out!" Arcane's magic shield broke as Haddock thrust Alicia away from the tree roots about to sweep away the Magisterium vermin. As a consequence, more souls, both from the druids and the Magisterium, succumbed to the relentless onslaught of Khaos magic. Their formation altered disarray, surrounded on all sides by the encroaching masked black magi.
Broin cast a limp gaze towards the Tree of Knowledge as it hoisted itself from the soil, and turned into a monstrous giant mandrake. Gone was the hope of Vanir, a cherished heritage guarded for millennia. Ohher might no longer grace them with his presence as the Riser of Plants when the druids proved unable to guard the sacred tree.
Trapped within a building towering yet confining, the mandrake's body brought down a wall full of murals of Vanir's history. Fortunate it was that this Tree of Knowledge mandrake remained mute, for had it emitted its wailing screech, Alicia and her comrades would have surely perished. More than that, these masked mages were certainly not engaging in mere dalliances. This marked the umpteenth time that their “pranks” had razed magical landmarks from various countries, and yet, none of the law enforcers could sniff at the noxious genesis of their odour!
Haddock and the wizards took the initiative to weave layered protective magic in place of Arcane protection, while the druids were still busy scattering in the garden. They tried their best to coax the woodbines and the bears to heed their commands with their prayers. The Mothman assailed the wizard group's magical defences with his legions of insects, while his faithful sprinkhonds continued rending bears asunder and cleaving through the careless nature magi.
"Alicia, bless us all with Arcane!" Haddock ordered.
Broin's eyes widened as he heard Haddock's plea. A glimmer of hope to be gleaned from this mess. A touch of Divine Grace, a force he had not experienced in half a century. Alicia then turned and spread the blue ley lines to all allied parties. This was it; the coveted Arcane returned to content them all!
The spirits of the druids—including Broin’s and the bears’—soared with renewed vigour. "Thank you for the Arcane might, Alicia," the aged druid gratefully acknowledged. Filled with newfound confidence, they turned as one, united against the ranks of the defectors, both druids and wizards alike.
"O earth, and all the roots that tread the realm, heed my call! Arise as new creatures, subdue those who stand in your chaste path!"
Broin and his two comrades uttered the prayer, and from the ground, three majestic white trees burgeoned forth. These arboreal beings entwined and entangled themselves around the corrupted black flora of the Khaos-afflicted druid champions. The pure essence of the white trees seeped into the darkened foliage, overpowering the malevolence within. With a burst of energy, the white trees then unleashed their branches, ensnaring the wicked mages and flinging them through the air, casting them aside like forsaken ragdolls. Arcane and Khaos's trees grappled in a clash of energies until both withered and reduced to lifeless husks.
Meanwhile, the giant mandrake was still rampaging, and now they were serving its fury. Broin and the others immediately rushed there. Several wizards were already flying around on their magic brooms to slash at the tree's ugly, wrinkled visage, while the druids were reciting another prayer to the late Tree of Knowledge to put it to its final rest.
"Look down—look down at us, a scattering of spores dancing amidst the horizon! Behold, this is your dwelling place. He who has died will one day bring more life. Come, and cover him with your life force. You will, through him, brighten the face of the earth for another thousand years!"
It was natural that something touched by Khaos would be damaged if not die. But the Divine Grace altered everything. In the cracks of the purplish bark, mosses suddenly sprouted at Mandrake's feet, from which the Arcane destroyed the entire tissue of Khaos. The lichens multiplied so quickly that the creature could not feel its feet and collapsed!
The Arcane's might barrage had disfigured the countenance of the mandrake, and the mosses were increasingly filling its being. The mandrake appeared to have "regained consciousness", and springs were flowing from both eyes. It was in great agony and could no longer endure the struggle between Arcane’s mosses and Khaos' tissues. Until Arcane covered almost the entire wrinkled face, its eyes concluded apologies, especially to the druids who had served it for countless years. Moss gnawed at its eyes.
The Tree of Knowledge was once again perished.
Broin approached, palpating the mossy trunk of the sacred wood. He wanted to mourn. Oh, he would have that mourning, he vowed. Soon, after the infernal black mages faced their comeuppance. His hands clenched, and he began to shout a war cry to the entire realm!
"This place is no longer holy, so their blood is lawful! Sacrifice them all, without a single one remained! Let their own blood nourish the soil, so that it may become pure again! Nature has been angered, so she will correct any defects in her!"
A shout that was met by other shouts of druids and maddened bears. This was not merely a battle cry. This was a prayer.
From the earth, an astonishing sight unfolded—a colossal sprout emerged, blossoming into a fearsome flower with a snouted visage. An adage from Ohher, the druids called the plant the Hunger Petal. Not just one, but five more of these menacing blooms sprouted from every direction. Each plant bore three jagged-snouted flowers akin to sea sharks!
Furthermore, an array of untamed birds soared out from the opening in the ceiling and swooped down upon those with foul hearts. While a black wizard was busy fending off a hræsvelgr hawk or cockatrice that was about to tear the flesh off his face, hunger petals targeted his weak legs and pulverized him. The carnivorous birds were left with only the blood that seeped from behind the plant's serrations. Nature was fierce.
Odelie hastily pulled Alicia's hand to shield her from witnessing too much horror. Broin, too, concurred with the astrologist's actions. "Nature is in her wrath! Get Alicia out of here immediately!" he said. "I wish you a successful journey!"
"Sir Broin, what about you? You should go as well!" In the brief period they had spent together, Alicia had already grown deeply concerned for the druids, especially the elderly Broin.
"Young lady, you've given me the Arcane might! That's more than enough to buy them time! Go, now!"
"Come on, Alicia! It's not safe here!" Odelie then dragged the girl away.
"Alicia, come with Odelie and the others!" Haddock, too, ordered. He and Bartholomew were preoccupied with battling the Antrhomania activist, the Mothman himself.
Alicia complied. She entrusted her movements to sister Odelie, guiding her into one of the patio doors. []
