The uproar among the gathered elves grew louder, and a large group positioned themselves between Calanthir and the guards, forming a human shield. Calanthir let out a weary sigh, his voice barely audible above the commotion. Yet, miraculously, his words carried through the chaos and reached the ears of everyone present.
"I will go... Please, do not fight," he pleaded with a hint of sadness in his voice.
As if under a spell, the uproar subsided, and all eyes turned to the young dryad. Faces streaked with sorrow and faded hope gazed at him, causing a pang in Calanthir's heart. With a gentle smile, he addressed the gathered people once more, his words filled with understanding.
"I did not come here to fight the elves; I came to help. If your leaders deem my presence unnecessary, then perhaps it is."
Whistling a short melody, Calanthir summoned Romulus, who swiftly trotted towards him. The crowd parted, creating a path for Calanthir to mount the magnificent stag. "Let us leave, Romulus. We will go and confront the corruption on our own," he whispered to his loyal companion.
With deliberate caution, Romulus began to stride forward, mindful not to harm anyone with his imposing stature. The elves reached up, grazing Calanthir's feet as a sign of farewell and respect. Calanthir focused his gaze ahead, ignoring the poignant cries, whispered frustrations, and the heartbreaking questions from children asking why he had to leave.
The guard formed a protective circle around Calanthir as they slowly made their way out of the village. However, instead of dispersing, the crowd grew larger, trailing behind them with a mixture of curiosity, concern, and regret.
Muted cries and whispers echoed through the air, but Calanthir tried to shield himself from their impact. Nevertheless, the emotional weight bore down on him, for he saw good people in this village, individuals who had lost their way. He yearned to help them, but he knew not everyone in the village deserved his assistance.
As they reached the outskirts of the village, a small contingent of people awaited Calanthir's departure. Their expressions were far from welcoming; in fact, they seemed disgruntled, casting wary glances at the swelling crowd behind Calanthir.
Among them stood Lirien, who pushed through the protests of her companions and approached Calanthir. He halted, meeting her gaze with understanding. "I am sorry, Calanthir... They... I failed," she confessed, her voice laced with remorse.
Calanthir shook his head gently, his smile unwavering. "No need for apologies, Lirien. There are wonderful people in your village. Do what you can for them." With a light nudge to Romulus, they resumed their journey. However, the group Lirien had arrived with blocked their path, their stance defiant and immovable.
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Ringed by guards, Calanthir narrowed his eyes, studying the group before him. Two older elves were present—an extravagantly adorned woman bedecked in glistening jewelry and two young men, one of whom wore an arrogant sneer upon his face.
The arrogant man stepped forward, his pompous and self-important demeanor grating on Calanthir's nerves. The dryad studied him intently, fighting the urge to unleash his anger in words.
"So this is the one, eh? The mysterious Dryad. Well, we are here to see you off, Dryad, and to make sure you understand not to return," the man sneered, his smile revealing a sense of superiority.
Calanthir remained silent, his gaze locked on the man. He knew that speaking in that moment could risk succumbing to his own anger.
The man scowled, provoking Calanthir further. "Nothing to say, child? Well, be off with you then! The elves rule Arcadia now, not the dryads!"
A sudden stillness enveloped Calanthir as his body froze in place. How dare this man place himself above the spirit of the forest, daring to assert his dominance over the very essence that sustained them all? Every fiber of Calanthir's being ignited with outrage, and he sensed that his anger was not his alone.
Romulus, too, seethed with anger at the elf's disrespectful words. The trees around them seemed to share in their fury. The forest itself stirred with a rustling sound, unsettling the crowd and causing them to look around uneasily.
Lirien materialized at Calanthir's side, her wide eyes reflecting her terror. As she caught sight of Calanthir's expression, she instinctively recoiled.
Lirien had faced countless fears throughout her long life, yet she had never experienced such profound terror as she did in that moment. She felt it in her heart—the forest itself was turning against them. It was a chilling realization, the most frightful encounter she had ever known.
Nalaniel had finally crossed the line, daring to utter those words to the guardian of Arcadia. His arrogance had potentially sealed the village's fate.
Her fear transformed into a blazing fury, directed entirely at the arrogant man who remained oblivious to the impending danger. He continued to wear his smug expression, convinced he had emerged victorious.
Taking a few determined steps toward Nalaniel, Lirien yearned to act, though she was unsure of her next move.
A soft but authoritative voice abruptly halted her in her tracks. "No, Lirien. Not you."
Calanthir gracefully dismounted from Romulus' back and strode toward Nalaniel, who finally seemed to sense that something was awry. The guards, previously frozen in shock, snapped back into action, forming a line with spears and boomsticks aimed at Calanthir.
Unfazed, the Dryad stood his ground, mere inches away from the spear tips. He stared at Nalaniel with disdain, pointing a finger at the arrogant man. "You," he declared, his voice filled with contempt. "There is only one ruler in Arcadia, and no elf, no dryad, no one at all can claim that title. The spirit of Arcadia reigns here. The will of the spirits is all that matters, and I speak for them. You will leave, elf. Take your people and depart from the embrace of the forest. You are no longer welcome."