If one wondered at all why the elves chose the caves instead of the King’s farm, the answer to that was very simple: the farm was just too scary and many still carried the trauma of the siege of the Elven City. Of course, there was no sky here, no trees or grass, however, there was glowing moss and mushrooms, and other cave plants and critters; there still was nature. The elves knew that this was not the best environment but it will have to do, at least they were free from the reminder of their failure, free from the wrath of the forest.
Understandably, they weren’t free from responsibility, actually they were the opposite of free; they were the servants to the Spider King sent here to do his bidding. The High Chief knew all that, he understood the stakes, and this was probably why the King of Spiders had sent the Lamia to stalk the elves from the shadows; meaning that the High Chief still had to earn his trust.
Maybe when their relationship gets better he will have the courage to tell the King, that lamias aren’t exactly sneaky. While their elven eyes couldn't see through the lamia cave camouflage skill, the elven ears picked their slithering sounds with no problem. Even a child knew that some lamias were nearby. Well, there were spiders here still, but those seemed more like workers than someone the King left to spy.
The elves spent a good few days familiarising themselves with their new environment and gathering the necessary materials to cleanse the corrupted spring. Those materials weren't anything fancy, just some plants and even rocks but they weren’t mundane either. Just like the forest this cave, no, this mountain had a spirit and if he wanted to cleanse the spring he had to appease the spirit first. The plants and the rocks carried a piece of the mountain spirit, its will and its desires, those were necessary for the ritual to work.
After days of preparations, the High Chief gathered everyone capable and they started drawing the lines and patterns for the ritual. Without elders to guide them it was highly experimental because every spirit was different and there was no universal magic circle to appease it. As they went on he made some changes here and there, and finally the lines lit up in blue.
The spiders stopped what they were doing and gathered to look.
“No need to worry spiders, we won't disappoint our King.” He proclaimed with confidence.
The easy part was done and now was the hard part. Elves even with a sliver of mana (which was everyone, even children) gathered around the spring and the circle. In retrospect, this was a grand ritual and not a simple feat to attempt or even achieve. But they were elves they knew what they were doing.
“Okay, pour your mana in.” He commanded.
He felt the air and ground becoming saturated with the elven mana, it slowly flowed into the lines and the mana began circulating around the spring.
“Good.” He concentrated and gathered ambient mana. “Spirit Sight.” He invoked a grand spell.
He had gained an extra sense, his vision was filled with tiny but bright sources of light, the beacons of life every living thing had. He looked around and could see the spirit sources of elves, tiny little green fires nested right under the ribcage. Further in the distance, he saw dark burning flames, those were the spiders. And even further he saw whites, blues, and greys of lamias.
“It worked.”
The elves cheered and even the spiders gave a few enthusiastic claps. The high chief raised his hand for silence, he needed to keep his concentration. He directed his attention to the centre of the corrupted spring. As expected it was inhabited by a spirit, but it didn’t look like it belonged to the mountain. It was a foreign entity, a blob of darkness, and judging from its size it used to be a powerful one. Used to, because it was losing its colour, the light was dim and the form was transparent.
“Manifest.” He invoked wishing to talk with the dark spirit.
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The mana swirled from the circle and into the spring, the spring absorbed it greedily. The blob of darkness grew coalescing into the vague shape of a humanoid. It was overwhelmingly black, made out of flowing tar-like liquid. There was enough structured mana to give it a temporary physical body.
Now, with the help of Spirit Sight and Manifest everyone around the circle could see and hear the dark spirit.
“Elves?” The dark spirit croaked surprised.
“Spirit, why did you taint this spring?” The High Chief asked.
“Ha-ha-ha.” It cackled in a wicked manner. “What does it matter now? My minions are slain, my body is destroyed.”
He understood now why its original shape was in a weakened state, it was only a lingering spirit bound to disappear with time; which could either take months or centuries.
“Then, I will simply banish you and cleanse the spring.” He pulled the mana into his right hand making it glow in white.
“It won’t be that easy, elf. I have warded it with arcane protections, Ha!” it croaked mockingly. “So, If you want the spring let's make a simple deal.”
“A deal?”
“Yes. Become the servant of the Demon King, promise to finish my mission and I will relinquish this mana spring to you. I would even grant you a powerful boon. How is that?”
“Demon King?” He looked at the nearby spiders. “Is this a test or a trick?” He was genuinely confused.
“There are no tricks, elf. Come, sip from the mana spring and I will grant you unimaginable power.”
“No.” He understood now that this was some sort of a test. “I will do as ordered, I will cleanse this spring. Cleanse!” He released the mana concentrated in his hand.
“Fool!” The dark spirit bellowed firing a beam of primal dark energy to counter the spell.
The two beams clashed, and if the spirit wasn’t weakened already the outcome would have been different, so the light pushed the darkness and enveloped the spring. The oil-like spring water began to bubble and spit sparks. Spots of it began to regain the colour and viscosity of your everyday average water.
“Hah! Urgh!” The dark spirit screeched its body was slowly disintegrating.
“Just a bit more.” The High Chief encouraged himself stilling the shaking right hand.
Such a spell was not without consequences. The mana was burning his hand, his fingertips had no flesh on them already.
“Just a few seconds.”
The once corrupted spring was almost entirely just water now and the evil spirit returned to its dark blob state but filled with ever-expanding holes.
“No!” A distant voice shouted. “You can’t sss-succeed.” It was getting closer.
The high chief couldn't spare the concentration to look, however, he could hear the sounds of fighting right behind him. The flow of mana was weakening and even the magic circle was disrupted, lines likely trampled or even erased.
“I must… I must cleanse this spring!” His will was iron, even if he had to die he would still complete the task. He pushed his everything into the ritual.
With the last wave of mana, the spring was finally free from corruption and the dark spirit was nothing more than a small ball of darkness idly hovering in the air.
However, the ritual was disrupted and the flow of mana grew wild. The ground, the air, and the spring water were saturated with wild chaotic energies both light and dark. The cleansing ritual turned to something else entirely, something outside High Chief’s control.
The dark spirit exploded with a pop releasing a sliver of chaotic mana. A small insignificant change tipped the already wobbly scales of natural law. The natural became unnatural. Wild magic exploded from the centre of the spring, the ritual was no longer powered by elven mana but by the mana of the spring itself. It washed over the elves seeping into their bodies. In other words, the grand ritual had backfired. The elves being the casters here were taking the brunt of it.
The High Chief was sent flying from the explosion. While there high in the air, his entire life flashed in seconds, but he knew that he was far from dead. No, it wasn’t the physical damage inflicted upon their bodies, nor was it magic kind, no, it was soul damage or maybe something else entirely.
He landed on the hard stone floor, right next to a worried spider.
“Did… Did I fail again?” He raised his head to look at the spring. It was just a normal spring, he couldn't sense any spirits or corruption there anymore. Then he looked at his stinging fingers. “My hands!”
The shock he felt was not about his damaged fingertips, it was about the colour of his skin. It was changing to the colour grey, the light tones were replaced by the darker ones. He could feel pain all over. He grasped his head to still the terrible headache and found the hair falling from his scalp. He coughed, and with that caught his teeth left his mouth. He ran his tongue around his gums, he wasn’t toothless, his old ones were replaced by sharp needle-like teeth. He stood up or tried to, but he struggled, the spine refused to straighten leaving him hunched.
“My body?” He checked himself over unable to recognise it. Then he looked around and saw the same: crooked dark forms only vaguely resembling elves. “What have we become?”
The spring was cleansed, but at what cost?