Hey. How ya doin'? Are you ready for this shit? I'm ready for this shit. :3

Description: After the conclusion of a titanic battle, Yu and his friends now find themselves embroiled in a mystery that for ages has gone unsolved. However, they frustratingly find themselves pushed away from the fore, left behind to learn how to control their power despite their desire to help. Meanwhile, the Champions delve further into solving what the 'Night of No Stars' is, and so find themselves venturing into lands humans have long been barred from, and all the while, their enemies scheme their next course of action. Mystery, deception, and dark plots all tangle together in this new adventure as both parties race to find the answers, answers that may only be found deep in the heart of The Green Wood.

Prologue

The sky was black and burgeoning heavy with clouds that night, so thick not even a sliver of starlight touched the ground. Rain pattered softly down on every leaf and vine, running in streams down the gnarled bark of the ancient tree that stood sentry at the heart of the forest, dwarfing even the proudest of human castles in size. Its large, heavy branches spread far afield over the lesser trees below it, giving shelter even as the wind whipped the leaves to and fro, shedding water with every jolt. All was darkness beneath its foliage, a coat of sable night thrown over the rain swept wood, shapes indistinguishable beyond the shelter of the grove.

Many shapes clustered at the base of the primeval tree, its huge, coiling roots winding high over the gathered masses before sinking deep into the rich black soil, spreading even farther out beneath the huge lake that surrounded it into the forest beyond. Glowing orbs the color of a dawning sun speckled the ground and floated in the air where the majority had gathered, shedding soft gold light on a menagerie of paranoid, frightened faces, who spoke in hushed, worried voices. Thunder rumbled outside their shelter, and silence fell. It wasn't until it faded that the whispers started up again, a nervous chittering that swelled over the grounds.

"Do you think it's a sign?"

"Bad trouble, I think. It makes my wings twitch . . ."

"Do you believe humans started it?"

"Humans start everything. I'd wager an acorn it was their fault."

"But Lady Lilium said this goes above anything a mortal could do."

"And who could know more than Lady Lilium? You?"

"We have to trust Lady Lilium. She'll know what to do . . . maybe."

"Hush! Of course she'll know, she's one of the oldest beings in the Wilds!"

A figure appeared on the outskirts of the group then, and as more and more noticed, another silence slowly spread over the crowd until not even a whisper could be heard. Slowly, every soul gathered quietly crept apart, bowing as the figure made their way through to the heart of the tree.

To a human's eye, the figure would resemble a beautiful young woman, her bronze skin spotted with dark freckles all down her bare arms and legs, speckling her shoulders and dusting her cheeks. Her eyes were as green as the moss that grew on a riverside rock, two emerald pools that could overflow with emotion in a moment's notice even though her attractive face was set into a stern mask, tight with consternation. Her hair was a tangle of fiery curls that fell to the small of her back, unkempt and wild, with bright yellow flowers tied in the strands that bloomed no less vibrantly than their field-born cousins. Her dress was made of hawthorn leaves, knitted together by magic and trailing to a stop along her thighs, a vine of purple flowers looped around her waist and a sprig of ivy tied around her ankle. With every step she took, new growth would spring up around her bare sole, leaving a trail of life in her wake.

The heart of the tree was nestled within a thick, heavy tangle of roots and brambles, whose only entrance was a narrow gap to the outside which was guarded by magic and two ancient treant sentries. The oaken guardians let her pass unmolested, and the old magic knew one of its own and so let her be. Within, moss and ivy clung to every surface, clumps of wild berries growing between crenellated rocks wound within the roots. Water from the storm trickled in from every cranny within the arching ceiling of twisted roots and ran over wood and rock and earth to gather at a crystal pool at its heart. The pool itself was surrounded by a ring of flat stones, each engraved with a different rune that glowed with a soft white light. Even from here, she could feel the immense power flowing all around her, the brush of ancient magic tingling across her skin. She took a moment to breathe, to remember her purpose for being here, before striding forward to stand by the water's edge. Once there, she fell to her knees, hands pressed against the lip of the stone but not quite touching the pool, taking a moment to listen as the water sluiced against the rock. Then, in a tremulous whisper, she spoke, "Mother."

The runes on the stones flared just a little brighter, and she felt the weight of a stare far older than she settle upon her, even though no other body was present.

She took another breathe before pressing on, "I know you hold your words most of the time. You keep silent, because you want the forest to decide it's own fate, rather than have you decide it for them. But this-"

She looks up, hands clenching into fists, "What the forest is feeling . . . what I'm feeling . . . this isn't like any calamity we know, is it? The tears in the veil, the darkness stirring in the deep, the way it seems the whole world has been unbalanced! Something is very wrong, more than it has ever been before, even more so than when the World Wound first formed! Please, Mother, we need your wisdom now more than ever! It is said you were here even before the land itself was! Surely, you must know something!"

Silence was all that answered her cry.

A growl formed in the base of her throat, emotions flaring, "You can't truly expect this to be something mortals alone can solve! You can't be silent like this, Mother! The forest needs you! The worldneeds you! My son needs you!"

Again, there was nothing, save for the way the feeling of eyes upon her suddenly and irrevocably left, leaving only a coldness in its place.

She slammed her fist into the stone, yelling, "So this is all you see fit to give us, even now?! With everything that's going on?! Or is inaction all you know?! Is that why you did nothing the day the World Wound was created?! Is that why you let my sister-!"

'Lylia.'

It was not the voice she had been expecting, but it was one that brought her comfort all the same as she turned her head to the entrance, anger tapering away.

A mare as white as snow canted through the opening of the hallowed grove, hooves clopping softly over the dewy grass. Water streamed from the beast's silver-streaked mane, tail whispering over the ground as she came to Lylia's side. The creature's eyes were liquid brown, deep with sympathy and affection as she lowered her head to look Lylia in the eye, and the long, spiraled horn upon the beast's head caught the light from the runes and scattered their glow across Lylia's face.

The beast's voice echoed in her head, soothing and gentle, 'Be calm, dear one. You know as well as I that your Mother is limited in her action upon this world.'

Lylia looked away, frowning, "I . . . know, Elana. But-"

'I know. You fear for much, as you tend to do,' Elana's eyes seemed to smile at her, 'I have been here for many years. While it may not seem so to you, your Mother cares very much. Lylia, you have always been one who has let her heart guide her, and while that is not a fault, there are times you must see beyond it.'

Lylia took a deep breath, casting her gaze to the pool, "I understand what it is you're telling me, Elana. But surely, there must be something more we can do than sit here and cower!"

'There is, though it may not be now that you do it,' the old unicorn told her cryptically. Her liquid eyes softened, 'Have more faith, dear one. Faith in your Mother, in yourself, and in your child.'

Lylia nodded, eyes still upon the clear, crystal water before her, "Of course I have faith. But will it be strong enough in the days to come?"

'It can be. It is true, the nights coming to us will be long and dark and cold,' Elana tipped her head forward, the tip of her pearl horn grazing the surface of the water and sending prismatic ripples across the pool, 'But we still have beacons of hope even in this time of trial.'

The water stilled, and Lylia saw new images stir within the pool; first, an old, grizzled man with a thick beard the color of marine blue, drawing weapons from a vault and fastening it to his person. A circular emblem of silver pinned to his breast glimmered in the torchlight, and Lylia could just make out the carving of a fletched arrow before the image twisted and disappeared. The next showed a gathering of tall, lithe people of elf blood around a beautiful silver table, talking animatedly to a pair who stood above the crowd on a dais. The duo was a man and a woman, dressed richly in reds and golds; the man was nodding and gesturing to the table, but the woman's eyes were far away. It vanished a moment later, replaced by something new. What was shown was a courtroom in a far away human city, with eight figures standing tall before an assemblage of mortal royalty. They were speaking, and even though the image was silent to her ears, she could almost believe she was there, hearing it all. Her eyes alighted on one face in particular, and her heart gave a longing pang as she reached out and brushed her fingers across their cheek. The ripples distorted the picture before her, until both they and it petered out into still emptiness, as quiet as it had been when she had first entered.

Outside, she heard thunder roll and rage, the rain lashing against the forest with more fury than ever before. With one last look to the silent pool, Lylia rose to her feet and surreptitiously wiped at her eyes, "Well, there is no more to be said here, I think. Shall we go?"

'Yes, I believe we shall. Any longer, I may just be tempted to take a nibble at those berries, and spirits know how your Mother will take to that,' the old unicorn joked, cantering back to the opening with a spring in her step.

Lylia laughed, just a little, following the mare closely, "Perhaps you should, if it means she'll answer."

'Hush, now. Besides, your sister will be needing help, so best to go post-haste,' Elana replied, a chuckle in her eyes.

She scoffed at that, "I doubt that. Lilium is more stubborn than our Mother at times, she won't have our advice right now."

'That could be said of all of you, dear one,' the unicorn replied, and Lylia had half a mind to take offense.

But instead, she was smiling, "Quiet, you old mare."

The unicorn laughed in her head, and soon they both broached the gap to the outside world. Lylia felt the wind stir her hair, nipping at her flesh like a mischievous sprite, and another sting of yearning tugged at her. Pausing for just a moment, she held a hand over her heart and whispered to the air, hoping it would carry her prayer to the one it had touched with it's blessing, however far the distance may be;

"Come home soon, my little sylph."

~ARC II: THE GREEN WOOD~

I'm so excited.