No one remembers who noticed it at the start, but after the first shout, everyone gathered around the great tree. The elves watched in horror as their great symbol, once bursting with vitality, greyed and withered in front of their very eyes. As it happens in most disasters, they couldn’t look away no matter how painful it was to watch, nor were they able to mount a reaction other than cry mournfully and shout.
As they wondered what might have brought such calamity, the entrance to the inner sanctum was blasted open with a deafening splinter. A huge greenish root moved about like a tentacle as it destroyed the barred entryway before disappearing back into the tunnel. From the broken entrance, a group of individuals calmly walked forward, led by a tall blond elf.
“It’s Alluin!”
“The elder’s son is out of confinement! Was he the one who did this?”
As the elderly and children gawked at the scene, the four protectors who remained behind to look after them stepped forward. They did so more because of reflex and a sense of duty than anything, as they were just as shocked as everyone else.
“Alluin! How? You were completely secured in place! It was impossible for you to freed yourself or take control over the heart from the elder!” exclaimed one of them.
“The intruders! How did they find this place? Also, that girl! I’m sure that I shot her! How can she still be alive?” asked another. Before anyone else could say anything, a huge root sprouted from the seed on Alluin’s hand and, in a flash, coiled around the elf that had just spoken, crushing him in an instant. The root then quickly reduced in size, retreating back to the seed and disappearing just as abruptly as it came, leaving only a gory mess behind. Shouts and screams soon followed, with those weak of heart fainting, puking or quickly looking away.
“Alluin! How could you! To abuse the power of the heart of the forest to kill one of our own!” shouted Elmer.
“Hahaha, how could I?” laughed Alluin with unbounded fury. His anger was such that he found hard to articulate his words. “You messed with my family!” he hissed.
“Your family? We’re your family! Your tribesmen!” exclaimed Elmer.
“They were inside the great tree… how…” Drannor stuttered.
“I care not for explaining myself to you. Listen well, everyone. I only have grudges against these three, Malon and Syllia. The rest of you just needs to stay back and not interfere. After I’ve my revenge, I’ll have a talk with my father and leave this place for good.”
Those that were still conscious instinctively retreated and began to murmur amongst themselves. They were both terrified and perplexed, wondering what kind of devil possessed the elder’s son for he to do such cruel things. Little Lina had fainted, sparring her further gruesome sights, but the old timer holding her in his arms watched everything with weak knees.
“Any last words?” asked Alluin coldly.
“You’re a traitor! A disgrace for our honourable tribe!” shouted Elmer.
“There’s no need to do this, Alluin. Let’s calm down and talk it out.”
“How did they get inside to free you?” asked Drannor quietly. As he asked his question, his eyes drifted towards the group of invaders standing behind Alluin. Whether it was on purpose or coincidence, he saw Liza tucking a strand of hair behind her ears and understanding suddenly dawned on him. “I see,” he said softly as three thin, but extremely sharp roots shot from the seed and pierced his and the others hearts. Though Elmer tried to fight back, the other two didn’t put up resistance, for they knew it was a pointless struggle.
The audience stood in place, too afraid to leave or even to breath too loudly. The mist around the forest was slowly dissipating and the great tree continued to wither. As they waited for what felt like an eternity, Uilan and the nineteen protectors he brought back finally arrived. The crowd quickly parted ways to give them space, for the experienced elder was the only person capable of bring the situation back under control.
“Alluin! What have you done?” asked Uilan as he gazed at the dead bodies of Drannor and the others. The elder was doing his utmost to control himself at this moment, for he could tell there was something strangely wrong and feral about Alluin’s disposition, something he never felt before. That coupled with the strangers standing behind his son were more than enough to sound all kinds of alarm bells in the elder’s mind.
“Have Malon and Syllia come forward. After I’m done with my revenge we can talk!”
Malon and Syllia, who were standing behind the elder together with the others felt a cold shiver run down their necks. They wondered if what waited them was the same fate as Drannor’s and the others.
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“Why would you want revenge against us?” asked Malon in nervous confusion.
“You promised me you’d take care of the bandit group!”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” inquired Syllia.
Alluin was at the end of his patience and used the heart of the forest to conjure two roots that he sent forward with an impetus. Uilan was prepared for this and, as the roots dived ahead, he cut his palm with a ceremonial dagger and quickly used his blood to cast a spell. The elder might’ve been old, but he was the controller of the heart of the forest for many years and, as such, had a trick or two on his sleeve. The blood spell latched onto the roots, making them lose much of their force, enabling Malon and Syllia to dodge out of the way.
“I sealed a great portion of the heart’s power! Protectors, quickly restrain Alluin and retrieve the heart! The spell won’t last forever!”
The elven protectors drew their weapons and sprinted forward.
“What now? Do you need help?” asked Fang Chu.
“It’s but a small setback, they won’t be able to take me down. Just watch.”
The protectors rushed forwards toward Alluin and the crowd watched with both fascination and horror. That was the first time since anyone could remember that the Valenfele had a serious internal strife and the first time they saw their sacred item, the heart of the forest, in action. Though a good part of the seed’s power was sealed, it actually benefited Alluin in a way, as he wouldn’t be able to avoid mass casualties otherwise. From that small seed he brought forth many thick roots that wiggled in the air like tentacles and used them to strike or shove his attackers away. Only the ones aimed at Malon and Syllia moved with deadly intent and vigor, making the two of them devote their entire energy to defense.
The morale of the protectors quickly began to wane as more and more of them got hit hard enough to be put out of commission for a while. When they chopped one root, two others would sprout from the small seed to take its place and the more they courageously charged in, the harder it was to approach Alluin. In the chaos of battle, Malon and Syllia were finally unable to hold on and were executed by the roots. Uilan watched everything in dismay and steeled his heart. He would have to use a powerful spell that could perhaps endanger his son’s life.
“There’s no other option... Alluin is out of his mind,” he muttered quietly. The elder began to stealthily gather his mana and to prepare his spell. His actions went unnoticed, for there’s an old saying: fear not the wizard who knows ten spells, but beware of the one that knows only one, for death comes without warning. That was certainly the case, for those with the mental fortitude to study a spell ad nauseum would become specialists. The more profound their study and the more intimate they were with the spell, the less effort and procedures required to cast it. The elder knew more spells of course, but this was one of the few that he knew like the back of his hand.
There was no flare or spectacle. While everyone was focused on the protectors that kept being thrown around by the wriggling roots, a whistling wind came forth at astonishing speed, cutting everything on its path. The roots were cut one after the other and the wind soon reached Alluin’s outstretched hand that was holding the seed. A bloodcurdling scream followed. The roots quickly retreated back and disappeared as the heart of the forest fell to the ground together with Alluin’s severed hand.
“Quickly, catch the heart of the forest!” shouted Uilan as he tried to gather some strength. Though this was one of his best spells, making it powerful enough to cut through a sea of roots was still taxing.
To his dismay however, the first to react was Liza. She pounced forward, quickly retrieving the seed from the severed hand. Uilan was furious, both with his tribesmen inability to react as well as the fact that their treasure was being held by a filthy human.
“Wake up! Don’t let that human defile our treasure any longer, grab it from her!”
As the few protectors that were still in shape to move advanced, a root sprouted from the heart of the forest and struck them with ferocity, blowing them away. There was an audible gasp from the spectators and the sound of many throats swallowing some saliva.
“How… how could this be?” asked Uilan with dismay.
Liza eyed him impassively and, as she was about to strike, a hand patted her on the shoulder. She looked back and saw that it was her father, who’s stump was still bleeding profusely. Her friends were just behind him, scrambling madly trying to gather bandages and other first-aid equipment.
“Could you let me borrow that again for a bit? Also, if it’s not too much trouble, could you bring me my severed hand? I don’t feel like having only one hand for the rest of my life if I can avoid it,” he said with a strange calmness.
Liza did as she was told, bringing him the severed hand which he reattached with the help of the heart’s power. This didn’t take long, giving everyone just enough time to recover from their shock.
“I was going to talk about this after everything was over, but by now you should’ve understood. This is your granddaughter.”
“That’s impossible! You never had anyone you were interested inside our tribe! It always gave me a tremendous headache! How could you have a daughter?”
As obvious as the situation was, Uilan simply couldn’t fathom. His values and prejudice blinded him from the most simple and correct answer, or perhaps he just didn’t want to believe. Seeing as his father was struggling to put two and two together, Alluin sighed to himself, like he was expecting such reaction in the first place.
“Move back with your friends, Liza. Things are probably going to get hectic again and your grandfather will probably say a bunch of mean things. Just ignore the old fart and know that I love you.” After he told her to back away, Alluin turned to his father. “Seems like you still refuse to see it. She used the heart of the forest. She is the child I had with the woman I loved. She is Liza Vanarel–”
“Branwen. I’ll never use your last name,” Liza interrupted coldly.
“… Liza Branwen, my half-elf daughter.”
Once again, audible gasps were heard from the spectators. Most of them had deduced such thing already, but it was always more impactful to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.