Aedmorn watched as the figure grew ever closer, and larger yet, vast in size and majesty. It stepped forward out of the rippling pool of energy, dripping with life, an immense figure that was part man, yet more than that, for within it were parts of beasts and plans as well. Antlers capped its head, and vines grew upon it, winding around its limbs. It tossed back its head and laughed, and that laugh was beyond all understanding, drawn from time endless and eternal and forever.
It towered above Aedmorn and seemed to see him not, but stepped forward on feet that were hooved and covered in bark, and the ground rippled at each step, and the ground blossomed and bloomed around it, life spring forth in greater profusion yet, so thick that it threatened to smother Aedmorn. Vines twisted and crept, and flowers sprung open, trees bursting forth from the ground, to shoot skywards.
Then it was beyond, stepping forth from the garden, dragging it along with it, a trail, a train of life springing forth. Aedmorn followed after, curious as to what it was, and what it was doing. It had some tie to the sword, he suspected, for the sword had brought forth the garden, and from the garden it had sprung.
Vast the figure strode, its laughter echoing about, butterflies swirling and dancing about it, bright sparks of light in the darkness of the void places.
Come now. Here I am, who have sought you for so long. Let all be at an end.
The voice called forth, cast into the void, and yet it was no voice, for it was in all places at once, as if it was mere thought given form.
Then the shadows were upon it, forming around it, shrouding it in darkness and a hiss spilt forth in response, cold and hateful. Tighter still the darkness wrapped, seeking to crush all beneath it, to extinguish the laughter and the life.
The darkness shattered and the shadows scattered and once more the giant figure stood forth, laughter spilling forth.
Is that the best you have, my ancient foe?
A figure formed before it from out of the shadows, drawing in to give it form, as vast as the one it stood opposed to, and it was cold and dark and endless, its form ever shifting from one to the next, and with a hiss, it launched itself at the other.
The two titanic forms slammed into each other, and the air around them rippled from the impact of it, as forces that could crush worlds and stars were brought to bear, lashing at the other. There was sound and silence and endless enmity that at last stood in opposition.
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Aedmorn backed away; this was no fight that he could take part in, for he knew that he was but a mote of dust beside them and they could crush him without notice, or care. Back into the garden, he made his way, to avoid any stray blows that might come his way, leaving the two titanic, eternal creatures to their ageless battle.
In the heart of the garden, he found himself once more, and there he saw that the portal by which the living creature had emerged still stood, open and swirling. He knew not where it led, only that it was away from the shadowed realm beyond that he had become trapped in, away from the battle.
Carefully he extended forth a hand towards the swirling energy, feeling a gentle tug upon it, inviting and beckoning. It wanted him to step forth into it, to carry him away. He pulled his arm back away and stepped back, studying the energy and considering it.
If it wished him to go, he wanted to think on it first, for such an invitation was not always of benefit or for his well-being. Gently he probed at it with his thoughts, feeling for it; a flood came back at him, through the portal, life in overwhelming quantities and strength. It called to him, sung to him and his body trembled by the flood of it. He wanted it, desired it in a manner he had never encountered before. He needed it, for it was a gift laying open and inviting before him, offering itself to him.
He was walking before he realised, stepping into the portal, and all around him was soft green light, and golden hints within, the air twisting about him. It swirled and curled and shimmered, drawing him onwards, for he needed not to take another step, being pulled along as a twig on a raging river, though this river was life, raw and unbridled, and he felt it infuse every part of his being so that his senses sung to the touch of it, heightened to unrivalled levels. He could see all, hear all, feel all.
And then he was through, thrust out the other side, and he stepped forth into another realm, one not of shadows and mists and darkness and the chill silence, but into a realm bursting forth with the very essence of life, too much to contain. It was like unto the garden he had left, but reflected and amplified a hundredfold, dripping with plants that shimmered and swayed and sung, so thick as to be a wall impenetrable all about him. The butterflies were there as well, in numbers beyond counting, a thick blanket of them upon the plants and bushes and trees that grew beyond abundance. And upon it all settled a gentle, soft light of pale green and shimmering gold, all about and yet coming from no source at all.
The heady scent of it all filled him, to the point his body could scarcely contain it all. He felt his body shuddering, changing, shifting, swelling. The beast within that he had kept closely contained burst forth and he tossed back his head and gave forth an unearthly howl, filling the wilds with the sound of it. The sword tumbled from his hands, cutting through the air, tearing through it and falling into nothingness beyond, yet he cared not, for he was home.