Flint pushed deeper into the forest, shoulders hunched and feathers drawn tight with irritation. His face carried a scowl that settled deep under his brow, dark and slow as rolling thunder.
The sun hung low behind twisted branches, casting fractured blades of light across the undergrowth.
Ellowyn trailed a careful distance behind him. Her robe was torn at the sleeve, smudged with dirt from the last encounter, but she hardly noticed. Her gaze, half-wary and half-awed, kept drifting to the silent figure ahead.
Leaves whispered beneath their steps. Boots and talons covered in mud as they moved deeper into the forest in a slicing silence.
"Hey," she called softly. "I... just wanted to say thank you. For earlier."
"Don't," Flint said without slowing, his voice clipped.
She hesitated. "I just thought it was decent to say. I've never been this far from home. And you showed up right when—"
"Don't assume I meant to help," he muttered. "I got dragged into that mess, same as you."
Ellowyn gripped her staff tightly and stayed quiet for a beat. "Still… I'm grateful you showed up," as her steps slowed a bit.
Flint glanced over his shoulder but offered no reply.
They pressed on, brushing aside low-hanging vines and damp, curling leaves. The air thickened, heavy with Ether spores feeling alive.
As the path narrowed, Ellowyn's gaze lifted and her eyes lit up with awe.
Strands of Ether light shimmered through the canopy like drifting silk, gliding through the trees in spirals of blue, gold, and violet. The muddy path burst with blooming lights with flowers glowing with pale bioluminescence. Insects traced their paths through the golden air and bird's lullabies lifted up the mood.
She knelt beside a glowing bloom, cupping it in her hand. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Don't get used to it," Flint replied not turning.
But she lingered for a moment longer.
"I can't believe how much I've missed of the Blue Forest," she murmured.
Flint was ready to toss out another joke as he turned to look at her, but the sight stopped him.
Her expression had changed. Her fingers moved gently over the petals as though afraid to break them. Her eyes brimmed with something that looked like wonder and grief. Like a creature set free, her eyes drank in the scene.
Flint smirked faintly. "Yeah… It's a shame. You all have been missing out."
A rustle in the leaves cracked the air.
Flint drew his daggers in a flash, reacting before the sound had even finished echoing through the bushes. Ellowyn crouched, moving slowly forward, then brushed leaves aside and gasped.
A small Ether bird lay twitching in the mud, its feathers dulled and matted. Its tiny frame quivered with every breath.
"Oh no… poor thing," she whispered, kneeling beside it. She scooped the trembling creature into her hands and brought it gently to her knees.
As its head tilted, Ellowyn saw it, one eye obscured by a creeping gray film, the corruption clawing across its face.
Flint didn't lower his weapons. "Put it down. There's nothing you can do."
Ellowyn shook her head. "What do you mean?". She paused, gazing at the bird. "I can feel it… the Ether inside, it's twisted. It's in pain. We have to help."
He stepped forward, dagger raised. "Then let me end it."
The bird whimpered.
Ellowyn gently laid her hand over the bird's quivering chest, closing her eyes. "Zoe, Vaelrien" she whispered.
A warm glow surged under her hand while a sigil on her belt lit with a gentle hum.
Flint paused mid-step.
Golden Ether sparkles gathered beneath her palm. Slowly, she drew something dark from the bird's body, a ripple of shadow forming into a marble-sized black orb.
At that, the bird stopped twitching, finally resting on her knees. Then, like mist lifting at dawn, its feathers glowed brilliant white, laced with faint yellow sparks. It chirped once, pure and bright, then stretched its wings and flapped away into the canopy, full of life.
Ellowyn studied the orb. "So this is the corruption."
She crushed it with her fingertips, turning it into dust that flew on the wind.
Flint stared.
"Huh, so Eldians can actually be good for something," he muttered.
She narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He sheathed his blades. "Just surprised. Didn't expect someone raised in a crystal bubble to care for a bird."
She stood, brushing dirt from her knees. "You think all Eldians are the same? That we don't care?"
"I think," he said slowly, "you all stayed safe in your dome while many of us fought... and bled for Skyland."
"Many of us didn't even know—"
"Do they not know?" Flint cut in. "Or do they choose not to?"
She faltered. "Well, I do. I chose to—"
"Yeah, sure," he muttered and shoved past a curtain of vines.
Ellowyn followed, but gasped and froze in place, caught at the sight.
Beyond the curtain of vines, the forest ahead withered. Dozens of Ether birds lay barely alive, their bodies curled in twitching rot. Plants recoiled from themselves, petals blackened, roots exposed, and the Ether gave off a low, unnatural hum.
Flint drew his dagger. "One good deed doesn't clear the stain of a thousand ignored."
"What are you doing?"
He didn't meet her eyes. "They'll turn into those... creatures. I won't let that happen."
"No, wait!" Ellowyn called, voice sharp with urgency.
Flint glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "You can't heal all of this."
"But I have to try," she whispered, already kneeling again.
She dropped beside them, one by one, drawing each twitching bird into her lap, and with the same motion, she placed her hand over each chest, whispering her chant as golden sparkles of Ether gathered beneath her palm. From each fragile body, she drew out a faint orb of darkness, then crushed it into dust before moving on.
Minutes passed. Then more. The sweat on Ellowyn's brow began to gather as her shoulders dropped.
"You're running out of Ether," Flint said.
Still, she moved to the next. Her fingers grew stained, sleeves damp with sweat and soil, but she pressed on.
Flint stood back, arms crossed, watching as her stubborn light pushed back against the creeping decay.
"Alright, step aside. I'll cleanse the area."
"Can you shut up?!" Ellowyn snapped, taking a breath.
"You think you care, but all I see is you just standing there." She looked at him hard. "All my life, I've been the good child, following orders, waiting for an opportunity to help, to feel useful. But every time I reached for more, all I got was a stare... and silence."
Flint stood unmoved, his gaze sharp but silent.
"That same look you have now," she pressed, standing as she wiped sweat from her face. "But you know what? I'm done waiting and doing nothing."
Flint's ears lifted, and his eyes twitched open.
"If no one else cares," she said, eyes closing for a moment, "then someone has to care."
She slammed her palms together and whispered in an echoing voice, "Zoe, Thaliren."
The sigil on her belt glowed, steady and bright. As if answering her call, Ether in the air shimmered unnaturally, humming with a strange resonance. Golden particles drifted toward her like dust caught in a current, drawn into her palms as if by a quiet siphon.
From every shadowed root, withered leaf, and trembling bird, a dark mist began to stir, corruption pulled into the vacuum-like draw between her palms. The air trembled with a low, strange hum as the Ether responded. Threads of blackness peeled away from the earth and lifeforms, pulled by an unseen force into her open palms, where they twisted together, slowly shaping into a swirling orb of shadow between her hands.
The forest shifted.
Colors returned from all plants while petals bloomed again. The birds stirred and chirped, flapping away into the sky.
In her hands, the orb of darkness pulsed, dense and trembling. Her fingers tightened around it, putting pressure on it. With a strained groan, she crushed it, bursting into a cascade of dust, dissolving into fine blue Ether spores that scattered into the wind.
Ellowyn leaned against her staff, trying to steady her breath, her body trembling from the effort.
Flint stood frozen there with eyes locked on her, stunned into silence.
Then she slowly approached him, limping with her staff, with her jaw tight, looking at him.
"You know nothing about me," with a firm tone, without leaving her gaze from his eyes.
He stood there, feathers still and hands half-raised as if caught mid-thought.
"Tch…"
Then he looked away. "Doesn't matter. You just proved my point." he sheathed his daggers and walked away. "You wear the name and bear the history."
Ellowyn stood still for a moment longer, gasping for air and watching him move forward into a narrowing path.
She reached for her golden pendant, staring at it as a single tear fell, hitting its surface.
After a brief moment, she wiped her face, steadied her breath, and followed, leaving behind the bird songs.
-break-
Time stretched as the forest darkened. Golden hues dimmed into ash across the tangled canopy, and what little light remained bled into fog. Birdsong faded, replaced by the soft murmur of crickets and the eerie hum of drifting Ether spores that trembled like whispers between branches.
"It's getting cold," Ellowyn murmured, rubbing her arms. "Should we maybe set camp?"
Flint didn't answer. Only the rhythm of his steps moved ahead, even and silent.
She tried again. "Hey... could you at least stop for a second? Where are we even going?"
"Somewhere with a roof," he said flatly.
She squinted at him through the fog. "That's not really an answer. I— sorry, but… what is your name?"
Flint stopped for a heartbeat and turned to face her with stiff shoulders.
"Listen, sparkles. Once we get there, we rest. Then we go our separate ways. Got it?"
A pause hung between them like the mist.
"Besides," he muttered, turning again on his way, "my name doesn't matter. You wouldn't remember it."
Ellowyn chased after him, boots squelching in the soft dirt. "Can you at least tell me how much longer? It's getting really dark."
Flint glanced back with a smirk. "About four or five hours. Unless... you want the shortcut."
She blinked. "Shortcut?"
"Yup. Knocks it down to two," he said, brushing aside a low branch.
Ellowyn paused. "Then let's take it. Faster is better. I'd rather not run into more shadows tonight."
Flint raised a brow. "You sure? That path's a bit more... adventurous."
She let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. "Oh, please, I don't care. I just want to take a bath. There is a bath where you're taking me, right?"
He nodded with his arms at his sides.
"Alrighty then!" she said with a huff and a tired smile, brushing mud from her sleeve. "Let's keep moving before I change my mind."
"Well," he said, already turning off the path. "You asked for it."
-break-
The terrain grew more uneven as they moved forward. Trees twisted like gnarled fingers, the bark darker and slick with dew. The fog thickened, clinging low to the earth, muting their steps. Then, as if spun by giants, immense strands of glistening white began to stretch between the branches, wide as bedsheets, taut and trembling with the faint pulse of Ether.
Ellowyn frowned. "Eh... where are we?"
"Shortcut," Flint replied.
"Shortcut? Through what? Are these... webs?" Ellowyn asked, shrinking back a step.
"Yup."
She stepped closer, eyes wide. "What kind of spiders make webs this thick?"
"The kind that don't mind eating you if you get tangled in one," Flint said coolly. "I'd recommend not touching them."
Her breath hitched. "Wait. What!?"
He brushed aside a thick strand. "Welcome to Cocoon Veil, sparkles. Lush atmosphere, elegant architecture, if you're into webwork, and plenty of locals happy to meet you."
He smirked. "Real cozy place... as long as you don't look too tasty."
Ellowyn froze. "You brought us here on purpose?"
Flint said calmly, "You said you wanted a shortcut," brushing aside another branch as he moved forward.
Ellowyn paused, her steps halting. "Nope. This was a bad idea," she muttered, spinning around. "Maybe we should go back."
But the path behind them had vanished, consumed by a wall of thick fog.
A rustle sounded from deep within the woods as the nearest webs quivered.
Her fingers tightened around her staff, eyes darting as the eerie hum of the forest grew louder.
She ran forward, back toward Flint. "Okay... maybe I follow you after all."
"Relax, sparkles. You'll be fine." Flint grinned slightly. "Just don't scream. They really like that," he added with a sly tone.
She gave him a sharp look. "If I get eaten, I'm using a sigil to pluck out every last feather on your smug bird face."
Flint chuckled under his breath. "Only if you don't miss."
He then glanced back once, just briefly, at the fog where the path had vanished. His smirk stayed, but his fingers brushed the hilt of his dagger.
Behind them, the forest folded into silence, trees vanishing one by one beneath a shroud of silk.
And somewhere behind the veil, something lurked.