Chapter 21

The law of the jungle

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"Are we there yet?" Yoshimo asked, almost plaintive.

Jaheira's answering scowl could rival the violent thunderclouds reining overhead. Rain pattered continuously down over their heads, though not heavy enough to be an outright downpour, remained unrelenting in its tempo. The waters of the swamp had been slowly rising to above their ankles, thus drenching their boots in vile, green-tinged water. A loud squelch and Anomen's blistering curse only served to echo how she felt. It was a soggy, chilly, misery-ridden march through miles of swampy land with no clear destination in sight.

And it wasn't just the weather working against them. Several times in the past day, it was as if the terrain itself moved, making it challenging for her, Cernd and Kivan to navigate past rocks, roots, and branches. It would be nigh impossible to even get this far without a druid or ranger to guide the way. The land itself had become hostile to those who seek to traverse it – she could read the signs that they were being turned around once or twice, the druids using nature to conceal the path to the Circle.

The only thing more infuriating than their current situation was Cernd.

"…worse things could await from here." He gestured to the path ahead, head bent towards a rapt Elene. "There is an old ritual that could grant the most powerful protection for a grove. The Ritual of Thorns. The Archdruid of the Grove would beseech the Mother of the Earth to choke the grove in thorny vines, keeping all trespassers out." Cernd considered his next words, water sluicing off the top of his hood as he ducked under a stray tree branch. "Of course, that means the druids within could not escape either. And if the ritual was not maintained well from within, the vines could turn against those who called upon it in the first place."

"Sounds like a risky spell," Elene remarked. "What could possibly warrant it?"

Cernd shrugged. "Threat of annihilation."

"Do they think we could pose such a threat? There's only six of us."

"Perhaps not, but they may see us a vanguard of worse to come. It is too soon to tell."

"You seem remarkably calm about it," Anomen pointed out, his voice strained.

An amused expression flashed briefly across Cernd's features. "If Mother Nature gives us a hard-shelled fruit, we will simply need to fashion an appropriate tool to eat it with."

Jaheira had heard of that saying before. Something drilled into young druids early on, how to adapt to the wonders and challenges thrown their way while in the wilds. Cernd baffled her though, taking the philosophy many steps further, not giving in to frustration or any sense of urgency no matter how irksome the situation was. Even being imprisoned and facing the lynch mob did not faze the man. She wondered how much of that was down to his natural predisposition, and how much due to requirement. For all his serenity, she sensed a dangerous undercurrent to the man that she couldn't quite place.

"I see a clearing. We should break," Kivan rumbled from many yards ahead.

Murmurs of relief filtered through, Anomen and Yoshimo especially glad to be out of the bog, city folk unaccustomed to such inhospitable terrain. Elene barely reacted, instead squinting up at the weeping sky. Jaheira likewise pursed her lips in scepticism. There would be no relief until the weather let up. Rest would be as miserable as a march, where they would huddle under tarps shivering from soggy footwear and clothing.

"Jaheira," Elene began. "I remember you used to have this cantrip for waterlogged boots…"

Jaheira flicked an annoyed look at her ward. "They'd only get wet again."

"If I can have dry feet for an hour, I could die happy at this point."

"I second that," said Yoshimo.

Indeed, Silvanus' gifts included the ability to create or destroy water as she saw fit. She was loathe to deploy it for such a trivial matter, but…Elene was looking at her so hopefully that she already knew she would cave to the request. Though she knew the girl had forgiven her for what happened with the Harpers, the deep pit of guilt and self-loathing still yawned within after the Galvarey fiasco, the betrayal she smelled from a mile away but still blundered into. A frustrated huff escaped her. She would find a way to make things right – for now, if it meant indulging the little things, she would start with that.

Jaheira chose an even patch of ground and cast a cantrip to draw water from it. The muddy, squelching surface hardened enough for sit on comfortably. Above it, Kivan stretched a piece of tarp they carried for making camp over the branches to keep the rain out. It wasn't much, but it would do for a quick rest.

As they settled in and dried their boots as best as they could, Cernd walked the perimeter, tracing the edges of the bog with easy grace. He gave no sign that he was listening to the terse back-and-forth between Jaheira and Kivan as they debated the route forward. Jaheira forced herself to keep a tight rein on both tongue and temper. Granted, her relationship with the elven ranger had never been the friendliest, but he had grown increasingly incalcitrant since the Harper meeting. He practically bit out every other sentence addressed to her. A quick glance to Elene confirmed that the girl was watching their exchange with some concern. While he was somewhat justified in his anger, Jaheira wished he would be more matured and focus on the matter at hand for the time being. It wouldn't do for them to stumble into another nest of giant spiders.

Or worse, trolls.

"I didn't think rhodelias could grow in this earth," Cernd said out of the blue.

Kivan exchanged a bewildered look with Jaheira before glancing over his shoulder. "What?"

"Here," Cernd pointed to a trailing plant that spread from the base of a gnarled tree. It led into the thickets, heading deeper into the clutch of heavy-barked trees. "The flower patch should be deeper in. Perhaps there is a glade of rhodelias blooming close by, hmm?"

"This is hardly the time to admire local fauna," Jaheira harrumphed.

Cernd shot her an enigmatic smile. "On the contrary, I think this is the best time for it."

Without waiting for them, he pushed into the thicket. Kivan's exasperated expression mirrored hers, but they both scrambled to their feet to pursue their peculiar guide.

"Jaheira?" Elene prompted, leaning out of her shelter.

"Wait there," she instructed.

The branches and brambles pricked and scratched as they navigated deeper into the trees. Challenging to pass through without making a sound, given the thickness of the foliage. Jaheira peered at Kivan as they moved and noticed with some resentment that he was having less difficulty than she was. Perhaps his home Shilmista had more in common with this unwelcoming forest. That would certainly explain the prickly predisposition of its native.

Minutes later, they emerged at a secluded glade, ringed by ancient trees. Stillness. No sound, no movement. The very air there felt different when she took a deep lungful of it – cleaner than the purest spring water. Jaheira frowned as her eyes settled on a bush of red-petalled flowers at the base of the oldest tree. Pristine, beautiful, untouched.

Something felt…off.

"You don't disappoint, Cernd."

Her staff was in her hand and in a guard stance the same time Kivan nocked an arrow to his bow. As one, they whirled to face a man emerging from the bark of the oldest tree, camouflaged to perfection. Like Cernd, he had feathers in his hair. That was where the similarity ended. This copper-haired man, clearly another druid, was younger, and clad in dark leather armour geared for combat.

"Pauden," Cernd nodded his greeting. "Your callsign hasn't changed after all these years. It is good to see you."

"And you. Were that we could meet in better circumstances," replied the other druid ominously.

Kivan's bowstring creaked. Cernd raised a hand.

Wait.

Cernd stepped closer to this mysterious newcomer, his hands open in appeal. "Pauden, I must speak to Gragus. The attacks on Trademeet, this madness has to end. It is a threat to the balance we both serve. This is not our way."

Pauden's lips thinned. "In that, you are wrong. It is our way now."

"What do you mean?"

"Gragus is dead. He lost the ritual battle."

The news seemed to floor Cernd, the man almost rearing back in uncharacteristic shock. Leashing her own discomfort, Jaheira gestured for Kivan to lower his weapon. From the way the conversation was headed, this was not going to be as straightforward as she had hoped.

"Lost to whom?" Cernd prompted.

"A woman came under our protection several moons past. She begged for sanctuary, claiming to be exiled from another circle because of a…disagreement with the Archdruid to the north." Pauden growled. "Little did we know, this woman was a closeted Shadow Druid. When she regained her strength, learned our ways, our weaknesses…it was a simple thing for her to issue the challenge, then to take over as leader of the Grove."

Cernd gaped. "Why did Gragus even accept?"

"The old man was honour-bound. You know how he is…was."

"Why have none of you challenged her in turn?" Jaheira demanded.

"We have tried," Pauden shot back, eyes flashing. "Some of us have died trying. She's purged most of Gragus' inner circle, the ones who opposed the new creed. It's a miracle she has not cottoned on to me yet." He shook his head in disgust. "And she continues to add insult to injury. After the last threat against her leadership, she…bonded with the Grove. To lend her strength to do what was necessary."

"That…that is unheard of. It is an affront…" Cernd trailed off in horror.

Jaheira ploughed on. "This Shadow Druid, she has a name?"

"Faldorn, formerly of the Cloakwoods."

The revelation struck her like an unexpected punch to the gut. So many things began to make sense now. Out of the corner of her eye, Jaheira could see Kivan's uneasy glance flick in her direction. Her own thoughts flashed to a recent memory, of their almost disastrous sojourn to the Cloakwoods in search of the Iron Throne base.

Seniyad and one of the druids departed, leaving Faldorn and Takiyah behind. Faldorn was a fearsome woman, with dark woad markings adorning her face and her teeth filed down to resemble that of a shark. Her dark hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, with various wooden beads woven into it.

"We move now, mongrel. Before the wyvern rises for its morning hunt," Faldorn snapped at Jaheira.

Jaheira advanced on her, eyes narrowed. "Call me mongrel again and you will miss your tongue when I rip it out, beast."

"Why am I not surprised," Jaheira muttered, resisting the urge to rub at her temple. "Let me guess, she wishes to cleanse the land of all interlopers, leaving only those who would live in perfect harmony with nature."

Pauden turned to her in surprise. "That's…right. Do you know her?"

"We've had the misfortune of tangling with her before, yes," she replied.

"I see. How may we best deal with this then?" asked Cernd.

She'd had the opportunity to do it in Cloakwood. Seniyad would have stepped aside if she'd chosen to remove Faldorn once their alliance concluded. How much suffering she could have alleviated had she made the hard decision then, to end this threat before it became a menace. She clenched her jaw, pushing aside the swell of self-recrimination.

"The same way you deal with any rabid animal," she said.

The air of finality in her tone gave Cernd pause. Pauden's eyes flickered between Jaheira and Cernd, a cold glimmer of interest in them. Eventually, Cernd sighed, gazing up at the twisting branches of the ancient trees with regret.

"If she has truly bonded with the grove, a ritual battle is the only way to unseat her," said Cernd.

"We have no shortage of druids here," Jaheira gestured to the three present. "She'spoisoned the last Circle she was a part of, and now she wreaks havoc at another. Such a taint cannot be allowed to spread. I will issue the challenge if you will not."

"No," Cernd shook his head. "I will do it. To win justice for Gragus, if nothing else."

Pauden's smile was slow, dangerous. "You'll need to get close enough to issue the challenge. Faldorn's right hand and his cadre will make it difficult for you."

Assaulting an archdruid in the heart of her grove had been nowhere in Jaheira's reckoning when they agreed to take on this task. While she, Cernd and Kivan could counter many of the tricks these druids could employ, nothing presented more danger than a cornered animal. Still…what choice did they have? For as long as Faldorn ruled the roost, there would be no peace, no safety for the people of Trademeet, or any settlement within proximity of the grove. The look Cernd gave her spoke volumes of his own mirroring thoughts, though his expression shifted into something more thoughtful as he turned back to Pauden.

"Perhaps. But with you here, we can also make it difficult for them, hmm?"

The quiet of dawn shattered as the guttural roar of a troll reverberated in the distance. Jaheira stirred, turning her wary eyes to the cloudy horizon, past the gnarled treeline. For a long stretch, the only sounds she could hear were of the drip-drip of water from the branches, and the ambient song of insects in the undergrowth. Still, she stood her ground…until a familiar groan of armour broke the tense silence. She tossed an annoyed look at Anomen, a slashing motion thrown in his direction for good measure for him to stop moving so much. The next few minutes would make or break their strategy.

A shrill cry pulled her attention back to the sky, a brown heron sweeping majestically into view from the west. She broke cover, striding forward to close in on the bird as it landed close by. The bird grew twice, then three times its original size, until a grim-faced Pauden stood in its place.

"Kyland Lind and his ilk will not interfere," he said. "The way is clear."

"How much resistance from here?" Elene wanted to know.

"Half a dozen at best. Other than Dalok and his cadre, the rest will stand on the side-lines until the challenge is concluded." Pauden looked to Cernd. "Still, I would prefer if no more blood was shed from this point on. Most of them do not believe Faldorn's creed, but they feel as though they don't have a choice."

"We will do what we can," Cernd assured him.

Pauden nodded. "Come then. Speed is of the essence."

With his intimate knowledge of the grove, he led the group past the tricky bog that hid the druid circle from intruders. Jaheira was quietly grateful for it. The defences of this circle would have thwarted even her for another day, with the murky waters hiding spike traps and the undergrowth thick and stubborn. Not to mention that they would also have alerted the druids of the danger with their witless tromping about. At least their numbers have thinned, with Pauden luring a hostile group to their doom by stirring up a troll nest to the west. Faldorn had severely miscalculated in allowing such a dangerous man to fester in her circle like a thorn in the flesh.

Eventually, muddy ground with twisting roots cleared into a solid path obscured by morning mist. White stones loomed further ahead, arranged in a neat circle before a rock face that Jaheira suspected hid a cave. She noticed Elene's troubled expression as they observed the path ahead. Understandably so. Beyond the initial smattering of mist, there was no cover, no hiding their arrival. They would have no choice but to charge straight into battle.

"May the Oakfather bless our arms. Though I hope we will not need them much," said Cernd.

Jaheira hefted her staff. At her motion, Elene and Yoshimo melted into the shadows. Their light footsteps were not as subtle as she would like, but quiet enough to go undetected barring close scrutiny. With luck, the poor visibility will work in their favour more than it would the druids they face. A deep breath, and she forged on with Anomen to her left and Cernd to her right. Pauden shifted into his heron form once more, flying off to his chosen vantage point.

The stone circle grew more foreboding as they closed in. A lone man sat on the steps that led through the circle, though he leaped smartly to his feet at the sight of advancing strangers. Before he could open his mouth to call out a warning, though, a burst of smoke erupted at his feet. Elene's form flickered into view in the periphery, before she retreated once more into the shadows. Jaheira picked up her own pace, her brisk walk now a jog as the man fell over coughing. He would lose consciousness in seconds, if Jan preserved the quality of his sleeping gas. She will have words with the little fop if he hadn't.

A path dotted with small white stones led away from the imposing circle, into the mouth of an enormous cave nestled within the rock face. The opening was so symmetrical, it was as if the Oakfather himself had hewn it into the stone. Pauden warned them that this cave, however, branched into an extensive network of tunnels and waterways deep within. If a rat were to escape, they would never be caught. Jaheira allowed her eyes to adjust to the muted lighting of the interior, lit by a combination of torches and the bioluminescent glow of the flora within. Under better circumstances, she would call the place beautiful.

Pauden's strategy worked to perfection. The druids were utterly unprepared as they stormed into the cave, surprise etched on every face. Some shifted into animal forms to engage, others reached for their weapons but hesitated at the sight of Cernd in their midst.

"Stand down, brothers and sisters! There need not be bloodshed!" Cernd called out.

"To me, my brethren! Execute these interlopers!" growled a scarred elven man further in the cave.

Dalok, if Jaheira had to guess. She struck a charging panther with a resounding crack, forcing it to retreat from her blistering onslaught. Shouts and chants echoed within the large chamber, Cernd holding back some attackers with twisting vines, Elene making good use of Jan's gas bombs. Jaheira cursed as she sidestepped entangling roots commanded by the enemy, knowing the odds of breaching the inner sanctum without bloodshed was receding by the minute.

"I will handle the ringleader," she growled.

"No need," Cernd replied, cool as ice.

She glanced at the muscled Dalok as he approached with a wicked cudgel bared. Then she gave Cernd a dubious once over. As experienced as their companion was, his lanky frame and weathered staff didn't look like it would pose much challenge to their opponent.

"There is always more to nature than meets the eye," he told her.

And he strode towards Dalok, wearing nothing more than patchwork leather armour and an ominous smile. Jaheira had half a mind to instruct Yoshimo to provide missile support, when she saw it. A faint ripple in Cernd's form. Then his shoulders expanded…nay, his entire form shifted to become something much larger, covered in dark brown fur. Except this was no bear or ordinary wolf form. The creature rushing for Dalok's throat was much more than that, a primal blend of man and wolf - a lycanthrope. There were tales of druids such as this…of men who tamed the disease of lycanthropy and learned to live in harmony with it. She simply hadn't imagined Cernd to be such a man.

Shaking herself out of the initial shock, Jaheira turned to focus on her spells to control the battlefield. Dalok stood no chance against a werewolf.

She reached deep within, finding the well of strength granted by Silvanus. The rock and roots beneath her felt almost like an extension of herself, no different from an arm or a leg. Cernd's hold on some of the roots remained, and she chose to support his spell rather than create her own, weaving growth from existing bark and vines to loop them tighter around torsos and arms. Behind her, a horrid tearing sound heralded the end of Cernd's fight.

Good. It was high time to breach the inner sanctum.

Just as Jaheira raised a foot to move ahead, the roots she was controlling whipped away from her chosen targets. Elene swore as they lashed towards her instead, twisting around her ankles and winding their way further up. The same thing happened to Anomen, then Kivan, and Yoshimo, and try as she might, she could not bring the vines under heel. She gritted her teeth as she strained against the vines. It was as if they had grown a mind of their own or…

…Someone more powerful had assumed control.

"She's here!" Kivan called out.

The vines curled and parted as a woman strode through the chamber. Dark-haired, with crude beads woven through her messy braids and worn leather armour. Beyond that, she didn't much look like the same woman they encountered in the Cloakwoods many moons ago. Something about her posture, her eyes…they spoke of an unnamed power, as old as the stones in the grove. Perhaps as old as the very earth itself.

"I suppose it was a matter of time before the weaklings in the north sent their emissary," said Faldorn, imperious in her indifference. Then she looked to each druid in turn. "No matter. At least now I know who truly stands with me, and who will feed the earth."

A growl preceded the stalking steps of a six-and-a-half-foot tall werewolf, the creature approaching Faldorn unmindful of the snaking vines that can ensnare it at a moment's notice. Blood still dripped from its claws. Then, as suddenly as he had transformed into the beast, Cernd reverted to his human form, his stance straight and unbending as he faced Faldorn. No sign of the usual deference one would offer to the archdruid of a grove.

"Faldorn of Cloakwood, you have done untold damage to the natural order here. I challenge you to ritual combat," he called out.

Faldorn tilted her head as she studied him. A terrible sense of foreboding curled in Jaheira's gut.

"I refuse. Why fight you in a ring when I can crush you like an ant now, fool?"

Elene whipped her head towards Jaheira, her eyes wide in alarm. No, no, this will not do. Faldorn must take the bait, or they were all done for. Jaheira took a deep, steadying breath, then prepared for a risky plunge.

Jaheira scoffed, projecting her voice so the entire chamber can hear her. "Of course you would reject the challenge, you coward. Just like you to hide behind the Oakfather's powers, while in the same breath you twist his most sacred tenets."

Silence descended in the chamber. For the first time, Faldorn turned to her. Jaheira counted all of two seconds before the other woman's eyes narrowed in recognition.

"You."

Jaheira's lips curled into an unpleasant smile. "Not enough to be run out from one Circle for your blasphemous ideals, you try for another?" she taunted. "Really, woman. Perhaps you should quit while you still draw breath."

"You are the reason Seniyad cast me out!" Faldorn snarled.

"It was only a matter of time before he did. After all, look at you. For all your talk about 'survival of the fittest', you still need the power of the grove to amount to anything. Without it, you're just that scowling little girl parroting tenets she barely understood."

Faldorn took a furious step forward. "I will cut out your poisonous tongue!"

"Oh, yes? Why not you face me in the ritual instead? See who comes out the stronger." Jaheira lifted her chin. "Or are you afraid of the prospect of losing to a soft-bellied apologist, hmm?"

For a long moment, Faldorn stared at her. She stood her ground. In this way, she had pitted her philosophy of harmony between man and nature against Faldorn's own absolutist tenets. On top of that, enough bad blood simmered between them that this tactic was just crazy enough to work. Now her only hope lay in her own ability in the ritual battleground. She hoped it work the same way as it did in her old circle. For all their sakes.

"If I kill you now, it would be too quick," Faldorn allowed, baring her shark-like teeth. "In the ritual, I can draw your pain out for days if I wish. You will regret challenging me, mongrel." She raised her hands for a sharp clap, and the vines entangling her group eased to the ground and lay still. "Bring them to the proving ground. Nature will decide who is in the right."

Relief trickled through Jaheira at her successful goading, though it was quickly replaced by trepidation. Especially at the sight of her companions being corralled into a loose circle by the druids. Fortunate that she had been saving her spells throughout the battle, keeping enough up her sleeve that she could give Faldorn a run for her money in single combat. She will be on her own for this.

She cannot fail.

Pauden appeared at her shoulder. "The proving ground lies further within."

"No weapons and armour allowed, I take it?" she asked.

"You know our ways." He canted his head. "Shall we meet our fate?"

Jaheira nodded, impressed at his poise. If she lost this battle, she would not only forfeit her life, but also his. Not to mention every other druid who stayed their hand when they saw Cernd at the head of the group.

The proving ground consisted of a large ring in the adjacent chamber, where the enormous cavern expanded into an area that could comfortably house an entire village. The founding fathers of this circle had hollowed out the centre of the ring into a sandy pit ringed with immaculate white stones. A small opening in the rocks above allowed a ray of light to shine directly over the ring, lending a luminescent glow to what was an arena where men and women fought to the death. Jaheira could sense powerful magic anchoring the ring – no doubt stepping into the pit would unwind Faldorn's hold on the grove just as it would nullify whatever magic she tried to cast before going in.

Faldorn smirked at her from the other side of the ring. She turned away, refusing to give her the pleasure of a reaction.

"Silvanus guide my hand," she whispered.

She'd seen a ritual battle before in her youth – the archdruid of her old circle challenged by an ambitious upstart. Except that battle did not result in anything worse than a broken arm and bruised pride. Her armour, gauntlets and boots came off in quick succession, leaving her in only a tunic and leggings underneath. She took a long look at her weapon before discarding it alike. Though simple weapons were sometimes allowed in such rituals, her own staff bore magic and would be deemed an unfair advantage. No matter, she had other tools at her disposal.

As she descended into the ring, she glanced at Elene and the others. The concern furrowing Elene's brows turned into an inquisitive expression as their eyes met – an unspoken question hung in the air. What can I do?Her jaw twitching, Jaheira shook her head meaningfully. Interference on her part would condemn them all to certain death.

The rituals sanctifying the proving ground hummed through her as she picked her spot in the battleground. She would be bound within until one of them yields or dies. Faldorn stood on the other side, rearing for blood. Like her, she had stripped down to nothing but the clothes on her back, her feet bare in the sand. Jaheira racked her mind for anything useful Seniyad could have told her about Faldorn in the past. Angry, reckless, cruel. He'd told her that Faldorn funnelled her fury into magic, boasting a wide repertoire of offensive spells. A strong caster, who relied on others to bear the brunt of melee.

Jaheira flexed her fingers. Oh yes, she had just the thing to deal with that.

Cernd stood at an elevated dais above the ring. His gaze lingered on her for a long time before he nodded to both combatants.

"Begin."

Her lips formed around the familiar words of a spell meant to cripple, her fingers weaving a pattern as she chanted. Across the ring, Faldorn had begun her casting as well, though hers had a different lilt to it. Jaheira's spell went off first, a burst of angry, biting insects shooting towards Faldorn. A green sheen enveloped Faldorn just as the first insect reached her. Whatever the protective spell was, it wasn't meant to repel a plague of insects.

With an enraged cry, Faldorn pointed to the ground a few yards ahead of her and a dire wolf materialised with a low growl. Jaheira smartly backed away as the wolf reared back before bounding towards her at full tilt. She could shapeshift, but that would mean giving up on spells for a while. Making her decision, she summoned a fiery blade in her right hand, the shimmering weapon descending in a purposeful arc to meet the pouncing wolf. A hiss of fire, then a high-pitched yelp, then all she could smell was burned fur and flesh as the beast tumbled aside with the vicious slash to its head already cauterised from her blade. Gritting her teeth, she raised her blade again and advanced toward Faldorn.

Too late, the other druid had already barked the final word in her spell. Faldorn raised her hand and centred a funnel of air resembling a tornado around herself. The summoned insects swarming her was blasted away instantly. Jaheira predicted what would happen next, but she was too slow to sidestep the blast of wind that quickly turned in her direction. It knocked her on her back, the flame blade flickering out of existence as she blinked away the shock of impact.

The sound of fresh a fresh chant jolted Jaheira back to her senses, scrambling upright even as she called upon Silvanus to lend her limbs the agility of a deer. Once on her haunches, she instinctively closed her hand around a loose rock in the sandy pit, which she hurled at Faldorn with all her might. The rock struck the other woman square in the nose, eliciting a shocked yowl that interrupted the spell before it could be loosed. Jaheira pushed to her feet quickly, all too aware that she had mere seconds to act before the next spell doomed her.

Again, her charge was thwarted by a summoned wolf. And again, she recalled the flaming blade to put an end to the creature before it could cause harm. She failed to dodge a fierce gout of fire that came soon after, leaving her no choice but to grit her teeth as flames scoured her left side. Meanwhile, Faldorn had already healed all the damage she suffered earlier, courtesy of the faint blue nimbus shrouding her like a cloak. She raised her hands for the next spell.

Jaheira forged on to close the distance. The few seconds it took gave her the time to decide on her gambit. This had to end quickly. Five paces away, she pointed her free hand toward Faldorn, snarling a command word. Faldorn's guard went up, a layer of stone to protect her from most physical damage that Jaheira could dish out. Except she did not expect a thorny whip to materialise from Jaheira's hand to wrap around her throat. With a burst of speed, Jaheira yanked the whip towards her, dragging Faldorn with it.

Though the whip did no immediate harm, the surprise her move engendered caused Faldorn's concentration to flicker. For the first time, Jaheira saw true fear in the woman's eyes, and she willed the fire from her blade to grow, to bloom, a terrifying herald to her enemy's end. Faldorn's stone carapace flickered as she careered forward, right towards the end of Jaheira's waiting blade.

"Mother, save me!" Faldorn cried as she reflexively threw a hand out, a spell already forming there.

Too slow. Jaheira's sword cut clean through her opponent's reaching fingers and struck true with a hiss. Faldorn's body twitched once, then again when the fiery blade was pulled out of her chest. Faldorn may be used to facing off against druids who relied on magic or shapeshifting. Unfortunately for her, Jaheira's martial training made her lethal in a straight fight.

Around her, the grove heaved a sigh of relief. She could feel it in the air, in the earth. The land will overcome this debacle. Over time, recent events would register as a mere blip in the long history of wars and disasters come and gone.

Cheers erupted from above as Cernd announced something to the audience, but she barely heard any of it. Instead, she peered down at the face of her fallen enemy. The woman who had caused such damage in her malice died with her face frozen in fear. Yet now gazing intently at those youthful human features, could Faldorn even be called a woman? She was still just a girl. Inadvertently, Jaheira's thoughtful eyes strayed upward, past the ritual pit, to where Elene leaned over the barrier with a jubilant grin. Jaheira couldn't find it in her to return it. Galvarey's words haunted her. A girl perhaps, but one capable of great evil if she were to ever set her mind to it.

Jaheira swallowed and looked away. She'd wondered why Seniyad had not chosen to deal with Faldorn while she was still under his charge. Now…she wondered less.