Azureath found that she became more comfortable with using her weather-manipulating ice abilities as she held back the enemy satyr soldiers from those wearing Bracken Woods color. The ice also served to protect them from the tree, which suddenly started attacking the dragon as if it was being controlled. Her solution for it was to lower the temperature of the room and creating a winter weather signified by ice forming all over the reception. The winter weather halted the vines attacking her and the soldiers, with one of them making a surprised remark that Azureath’s winter was the first winter the Bracken Woods had ever experienced within its thick forest.

But then she soon realized that something was wrong with the tree. While she could not sense druidic magic, she could sense magic corruption. The tree itself was ‘blackened’ by a corrupting influence that felt familiar for Azureath.

The corruption also melted the ice, sustained with magic, and renewed the attacks against everyone. This time, no one was spared, and the satyrs of Val’seris became panicked when the tree started attacking them, too. The dragon could not use her ice as a protection and was forced to dodge several vines attacking her while trying to freeze them. It did not work, and she realized what the corrupting influence was.

“Aetherium,” she concluded. It would kill any living being without magic protection, but only if it was concentrated enough. Unlike during Shawar’s attack, the Aetherium coated the plant, turning it into an Aetherium-laced weapon that could prove deadly.

Only one being she knew used Aetherium, and the realization made her uneasy.

Just before she could declare the culprit, she heard loud footsteps coming from outside just before the ice blocking the entrance shattered. To Azureath and the satyrs’ surprise, a giant, dragon-sized wolf rammed through her ice, evidently melted by the Aetherium. On its back was a familiar figure that would be in the most danger: Keeshar.

“Wait, wolf!” exclaimed Azureath. “If you can understand me, there is Aetherium in the air! That Raptor does not have innate magic defense!”

"Then my back is the safest place for you!” said the wolf to Keeshar, who nodded. He turned to Azureath and said, “We have no time to lose. Even in the Cursed Forest, I sensed trouble brewing. I traced it to this ancient tree. An evil is corrupting it. You have to let me through, dragon!”

Azureath did not hesitate to let the wolf through, with her following the wolf. The tree intensified its attack, but Azureath protected both her and the satyrs following them with her weather manipulation. The wolf instantly knew what it was.

“Primal magic. Interesting,” said the wolf. “To see such magic in this time and age is something I do not expect.”

“Are you one of the forest’s denizens? I have never heard of a wolf the size of a dragon before.”

“If you’re interested, we can talk later. For now, I need your primal magic. The tree is protected by years of mana accumulation, and it’s supposed to negate black mana. Something is causing that protection to fail. If the tree is completely corrupted, this forest will fall to its evil. I don’t know why someone would be willing to use such dangerous magic, but whatever this is doesn’t feel like black magic.”

The conversation distracted them both; several of the vines managed to cut Azureath when she tried to dodge. The cut wasn’t deep, but it penetrated her scales and caused immense pain. It was as if she was being burned from the inside out. Only by closing her superficial injuries with her ice did it stop.

The corrupting influence tried its best to stop the dragon and the wolf by creating a barrier to stop their progress. Azureath easily flash-froze the barrier with the wolf howling and crashing through it with ease. Layers upon layers of barriers tried to stop them, but the combination of Azureath’s ice and the giant wolf’s charging kept their progress.

But they could only go so far. The next barrier seemed to be like before: a meager obstruction that was nothing against Azureath’s ice. But then, just before Azureath was going to freeze it with her claws, the wolf felt something dangerous and exclaimed, “Wait, dragon, stop! Don’t touch the barrier!”

Azureath was fortunate that she managed to sense the danger at the last second and pulled her claws back, with one of her sharp claws caught by it. The tip of her claws were white as if degraded by acid. The wolf stood beside her and assessed the barrier while giving out a very concerned whine.

“What is this cursed mana concentration?" asked the wolf. "How can this even exist?"

“This is Aetherium. Only one being is capable of doing this.” Azureath growled. “This is the same feeling I sensed when a pillar of light came down near Dracokin.”

The wolf shook his head when, all of the sudden, the voice that came out of him was different.

“A light dragon? Here?” said Hans’ voice in bewilderment.

“Hans?” said Azureath surprised. “But…your form…”

“A Lycan in the forest took over his body to guide us out of there,” said Keeshar. “When he did, Hans became…this.”

“I never imagined how having a gigantic form will feel, and how terrifying it will look to the people of Ternor,” said Hans.

“Interesting,” said Azureath. “But about your question, no. This isn’t a light dragon. See the aura emanating from the barrier? It’s black. Like the corruption eating at the tree, the light is also as corrupted.”

“So, a light dragon fell victim to this corrupting influence.”

“I doubt a true light dragon is even directly involved.”

“Wait.” Hans heard Fenrir’s call and said, “What were you trying to say?”

“I can sense someone beyond the barrier,” said Fenrir. “If I can get through that person, we might be able to proceed.”

“Will that be any help?”

“He fares better than we do at the moment. Now…by the gods, I hope this works.”

“What will work? Fenrir, don’t do anything stupid!”

Hans could not stop Fenrir, though the werewolf spirit doubted anyone could. Fenrir left Hans’ body, but kept it as a tether, inspired by the story Keeshar told his friend back in the Cursed Forest. He couldn’t take the risk of not being able to return to Hans’ body. He did not plan to move on just yet.

Walking as a spirit had always been something he was good at, even before he made a decision that would seal his fate. Druidic magic were always about nature’s connection, and the spirit world was no exception. Fenrir wasn’t sure how long it had been since he was sealed the Cursed Forest, but just by seeing the satyrs made him realize how long it had been. Things had changed, not necessarily for the better. Fenrir did not care about it much, not after he was condemned by them and his followers exiled. They still existed, but they lost everything of what made them druids, as he could see in Hans.

But Fenrir had no time to regret. Living in the past would only serve to make him suffer. It was time for him to let go, and start his path to redemption.

He was unsure at first, but as he ran through the corruption, he was elated when he did not feel anything wrong. It really was like his teacher said.

“The spirit world is detached from the living world, and we choose what path to walk on. For us, however, that choice is not permanent.”

“Whatever happened in the living world does not apply in the spirit world,” thought Fenrir as he ran through the barrier with ease and quickly find the person he sensed.

The person was a satyr holding his hands out while shouting a name. Fenrir could see he was trying to dominate the plant, but he was losing due to the overwhelming black mana corruption and the ancient magic stockpiled by the tree. Fenrir could also see that the barrier in front of him was much more fortified than the one behind him.

Fenrir knew this satyr would lose, but he could at least do something to the barrier behind him. Without delay, the werewolf spirit made himself visible to the satyr, surprising him.

“A ghost?! Now?!” exclaimed the satyr.

“Satyr, I know this is sudden, but open the wall behind you. Do it, now!”

The satyr was still confused, but he knew the ghost was serious. He turned around and effortlessly opened the wall behind him, revealing a group of satyrs and a dragon that could help turn the tide around. Fenrir simply returned to Hans afterwards.

“Oh, hey!” said the satyr. “Welcome to the party! Too bad they shut off the door!”

“Is this even the right time for that, Fritz?” said Hans.

“Not if Elle’s the one having fun!”

Hearing Elyse’s name made Hans surprised. “Elle? Elyse?! She’s behind that wall?!”

“Doing what she does best: kicking the shit out of the fake prince.”

“And you didn’t stop her?!”

Fritz became curious. “Why not? She fares better in that fight than me.”

“No, you don’t understand!” said Hans. “This corrupting influence is not just any dark magic. It’s Aetherium! I know you were there where Shawar attacked Dracokin, as did when the light dragonborn finished the job! She’s in grave danger!”

“And how does that change things? Light dragon or not, if Anrich’ar is completely corrupted, the Bracken Woods is done for. Not just this kingdom…but every kingdom out there in the Forest will fall if we can’t stop the corruption. So, help me!”

***

Elyse and Lisle fought ferociously against the fake prince, both surprising the dark druid with their druidic magic-supported close combat. Both Elyse and Lisle were trained by a weapon instructor in the arts of combat. Only Lisle continued with the instructor’s weapon of choice: a combat knife. Lisle, as Elyse noticed, put a twist to her skills by double-wielding, making her a dangerous and agile fighter focused on close quarter combat. Lisle was the one who managed to pressure their enemy by dodging and rolling, succeeding in getting close enough to their enemy to weaken his defense.

Elyse, ever the rebel, decided that knives weren’t her thing, and chose to learn unarmed combat focused on grappling while still continuing her druidic lessons. Her self-imposed exile, abruptly stopped her training, though she already learned one of the basics: nature energy enhancement. In her own desert oasis, she continued to hone her grappling moves, which gave her a surprising edge given her size. This also turned her into the heavy hitter, along with the primary reason why the mage was affected by her attacks. She couldn’t utilize her grappling skills without risking herself, so she relied on Lisle’s fast, distracting attack while Elyse finished it with a suplex. The sisters made a good team and they both knew it.

The mage, frustrated and angered after being surprisingly pressured by the satyr princesses, let out a powerful roar that pushed the two away from him.

“Enough of your insolence!” he declared. “I will not be look down by another royalty. I will not!”

“We riled him up pretty good, eh, Lis?” said Elyse.

“But it’s still far from incapacitating him,” said Lisle. “And we’re running out of time.”

Elyse nodded, acknowledging the fact. As the fight went on, the corruption on Anrich’ar steadily spread, endangering the lives of not only those still trapped within, but the Bracken Woods as a whole. They could sense the nature energy slowly being eroded by Aetherium alongside the mana particles just as the tree slowly lost itself. If the tree became completely corrupted, drawing nature energy from it would end up giving them Aetherium sickness. By that point, their enemy had won.

“I know,” said Elyse with a frustrated sigh. “You got a better plan?”

“Other than beating him? I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Dammit. Guess all we can do is fight to the bitter end.”

Elyse turned to her father, still restrained the to throne by the vines. He kept silent, watching her daughters fight, knowing that he could not do anything. It was so different from before he was caught. He was harsh towards his children, especially if he believed they had the potential to be a king or a queen. He believed Elyse to be that, and still was. But as he was left pondering, he slowly came to realize that maybe it wasn’t the best for her daughter, after all.

Elyse, despite their differences, understood her father had his reasons. She did not want to argue, though she was adamant not to be a queen, as she was both unprepared and unfit to rule. She was also not someone who liked long, drawn-out conversation, so the only thing she could say to her father king was, “Forgive me, father.”

She and Lisle then resumed their attack, but this time, the satyr had already drawn most of the Aetherium he released and became empowered by it.

“You will never kill me, princesses of Bracken Woods,” said the caprine mage. His voice was distorted and sounded very demonic. “I have the power of god within me. What can your meager druidic magic do to me now?"

His boasting would prove to be ironic. As he absorbed the light, also changed due to his evil nature, the corruption that fortified the wooden wall as compelled by the mage was gone, enabling Fritz to finally compel the ancient tree to open a path for them. The mage’s concentration was also broken by the constant attacks coming from the princesses.

Fenrir, controlling Hans’ gigantic feral form, ran in first and jumped towards the source of the corruption: the caprine mage. The mage did not expect anyone to get through the wall and could not defend himself when Fenrir swatted the mage to a wall. Hans then quickly took over and said, “Elyse! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, all things considered,” said Elyse, beore noticing the familiar voice. “But wait. That voice…Hans?”

“Yeah. Got an unexpected ally deep in the forest,” said Hans. “Still need to get used to a body this big, though.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said Fenrir from within Hans. “But do you think this is the right time to have a conversation?”

“But didn’t you—”

Hans did not see a fast-moving vine trying to snare him, but Keeshar did. Drawing his macuahuitl, he swung it just as the vine wrapped around Hans’ feral form’s neck. The thorns on it, however, caused it to latch around his neck and it felt painful.

Elyse and Lisle became alerted by the danger the thorny vine posed to both Ternorians and tried to get it off just as the mage tried to attack them with similar vines. Keeshar prepared himself once more, but quickly found he did not need to.

The vines slowed, then stopped, frozen just as the temperature in the throne room dropped. Keeshar suddenly felt cold and tried to get some warmth in Hans’ fur. He was the only one in that room that wore revealing tribal clothing with nothing but scales and feathers covering him. The cold winter atmosphere was also something foreign for a Raptor living in a tropical island and he was badly underdressed.

Azureath also realized this, but she knew Raptors were warm-blooded beings distinct from reptiles. She considered the Raptors to be a cross between a reptile and a bird and knew that lowering the temperature would not kill him outright, especially if he was warming himself within Hans’ coat.

“Hey, I know we’re facing a dangerous mage, but can you at least try and not kill this tree?!” asked Fritz. “We are not trying to make things worse than it is!”

“Do not worry!” said the king, who finally talked upon being surprised by the development in front of him. “Anrich’ar is hardier than you think! Go and save it, dragon!”

Azureath did not delay and quickly grab the corrupted satyr.

“Not even a dragon is going to defeat this power!” he arrogantly boasted. “All you do is destroy your…self?”

Ice started forming around the druid and his expression changed to worry. He quickly broke free by shooting concentrated Aetherium directly to Azureath’s draconic face, causing her to become distracted and release the mage.

“Impossible,” he said. “Primal magic? From a dragon?”

“Never revel in victory before you finish your opponent, dark one,” said Azureath. “And that proves it. I can smell your fear, and I can taste victory. Your power is borrowed, and the light dragons do not do so without a motive. You are nothing but their pawns.”

“How dare you call me a pawn!”

Azureath’s declaration clearly agitated him as he intensified his attacks. Azureath could freeze the vines, but she wasn’t fast enough. Some managed to snare her as the mage maniacally laughed.

But then the vines slowly opened itself, relieving pressure around the dragon. The mage, bewildered, turned towards Fritz. The brown-furred satyr was tcommanding the tree to stop attacking Azureath, but the strain started to affect him, even after he concentrated for the first time in his life. Before, controlling plant felt like breathing; this time, he needed to compel them, even with the corruption twisting the tree’s nature.

“Even after everything I have done to you, you still act like you’re high and mighty, Udvik!” said the druid angrily. “You are not worthy of the gift given by your blood!”

“Oh, yeah? Well, who between us is the genuine article? The one drinking my father’s blood, or someone who has that same blood pumping out of his heart?” taunted Fritz. “I don’t know how my father couldn’t see the evil in your heart, Enfride, but you should’ve just kill me like you kill my family! You see, Enfride, the thing with royals that you don’t know is this; there is always the odd one out. That odd one is me.”

The mage, now enraged and losing his composure, started to intensify his attack. The corruption rapidly spread and was going to engulf the whole tree. This time, Fritz’s plant compelling ability was not enough to win against the corruption, causing him to lose control.

“Dammit, Fritz!” exclaimed Elyse. “Why must you make things harder than it should with that runny mouth of yours! This is the reason why we broke up!”

“Oh, come on! Why can't I act cool for once?!”

"This is not the time for that!”

“Well, excuse me, princess!”

“If you two lovers can stop quarrelling and help me, I’ll appreciate it!” exclaimed Lisle. “Get the vines off father, Fritz!”

Fritz effortlessly did so, enabling Lisle to grab the king and climbed onto Hans’ back, helped by Keeshar. Both Fritz and Elyse followed suit.

Hans wanted to complain about having so many people on his back when he, too, felt cold. He briefly wondered how he could when he realized that ice started forming around the room. Realizing that Azureath’s next attack would not differentiate friend or foe, Hans, or rather, Fenrir taking over his body, dashed away.

They all got out of the throne room and watched in awe as the previously wooden throne room turned into a snow-covered room with ice rapidly forming on the wall. The satyrs were worried that it could potentially kill the tree-castle despite the king's claim. Azureath was aware of this, but she had to do something to fight against the now-crazed satyr druid that spread corruption everywhere.

The satyr roared in frustration as his attacks were not effective against Azureath, who by this point froze the air and the vines attacking her, though one managed to get through and tore her wing membrane. The dragon was unfazed. She quickly ran up the stairs and pounced the monstrous satyrs, all while letting her body be wrapped by the sharp vines that penetrated her scales. Enfride became terrified upon seeing her, and upon realizing that, despite the dark gift and all the triumphs he had, he was going to be killed by a dragon using primal magic, one that he knew could only be used by an old god.

And in his eyes, the azure dragon was an old god of winter, one whose anger would mean an eternal frost that kills all life.

“No! I can’t die here!” he declared as he erratically tried to free himself. “Not after everything I sacrificed!”

“I do not care what you did, for I am an outsider,” said Azureath. She made a low, pained growl as the vines tightened around her neck like a vice, drawing blood. “But your ‘god’ is my sworn enemy. I will not let your ‘god’ win, not after what they took from me!”

The determined look in Azureath’s eyes was the last thing the disheartened Enfride saw as his body froze in place. There weren’t any ice crystals encasing his body, but the others could clearly see that he froze to death. The dragon then finished it by grabbing his body and slamming it to the floor, breaking the satyr into pieces.

The corruption that took over the tree stopped and slowly receded into the frozen pieces of the satyr, ending with the pieces melting into a black puddle before evaporating. The vines wrapping Azureath, also frozen by her, disintegrated along with the satyr controlling them. The azure dragon sighed in relief as she returned the temperature of the room to normal, in the process turning all the ice into puddles. She started to feel comfortable with using her primal ice magic.

She looked up, as if facing someone, and said, “I may not be able to hear your voice, great old one. While it isn’t a dragon’s nature to seek forgiveness, I will ask for it now. Only the satyrs will know.”

The tree, apparently understanding Azureath's sincerity, instantly bloomed, surprising the dragon and everyone. For the satyrs, it was the first time the tree ever bloomed within its interior.

Everyone became very awe-struck by the presence of an azure dragon that showcased the primal magic of the old gods. Even the king was in awe by the nature of her magic. It was clear that the dragon was something very special.

However, he owed his survival to one who bore quite an animosity for him: Elyse. The satyr was clearly disobeying him for running out of the Woods, but then he also found that her rebellious nature made her a better judge of character who managed to find an ally that could deal with the conflict.

“Elyse,” he said. The satyr turned to him. “If I may say so, I have never been prouder for you.”

“Father…,” said Elyse as she nodded. “I still owe you an apology for running away. I never thought things could end up like this.”

“Neither did I.”

“Where’s…where’s Henri and the others?”

“I’ll go check,” said Lisle. “The room they hid in might be compromised, but I know it will take more than that to take them out.”

Elyse smiled to her sister. “Guess you should be the one to lead our people, after all. Hope father think the same way, too.”

The king nodded. “And I can see the wisdom of going beyond the borders of the Woods and beyond the woodland people. However, let me decide about it first. For now, let us revel in our victory against the invaders.”

Everyone nodded, including Hans and Keeshar. Both relaxed, with Hans still in his giant feral form. They never thought it would come to that, but it happened.

Even if it wasn’t a true light dragon, they still regarded it as a victory against them.

But before they could expect a victory celebration, the king turned towards Hans with a serious expression. Elyse noticed this, as did Hans.

“Is…is there something wrong?” asked Hans.

“So, you finally found a way to escape your prison, dire wolf,” said the king. “And to think one of you managed to return to the Forest after all these times.”

“To be fair,” said Fenrir, taking over Hans’ body. “It’s purely a coincidence, though they did come at the right time. Maybe it’s time you start accepting that before we end up at each other throats again.”

“I won’t risk it if you don’t,” said the king. “The wolf you took as a host is welcome as a guest. However, your punishment is eternal, and always has been, Fenrir.”

“Only my body is punished, satyr king.”

The king seemed unconvinced, but he begrudgingly accepted Fenrir’s reasoning. He then walked away, without even saying anything.

Elyse, confused as to why her father acted like that, turned to Hans/Fenrir and said, “Did I miss something?”

“You didn’t,” said Fenrir. “Though…he’s right.”

Hans wasn’t sure about that, but then he also questioned whether Fenrir did have a hidden plan. Maybe he was punished unfairly for creating the werewolf race, but it might also be fair for the same reason.

If the latter was the case, no werewolf could ever accept that their origins happened to be the product of a cursed dark ritual. That could only serve to drive an even bigger wedge between the humans and werewolves back in Ternor.

And that wedge would surely be problematic, both during their current situation and in the future.