The land was ill. Everything around Nalion was tinted in a sickly blueish-gray color. The thin elf covered his lower face with his soft green sleeve as the very unpleasant smell of rotten fish invaded his nostrils. It nearly made him gag. The druid was standing in a strange bog, surrounded in deep and thick tendrils of fog. Every single plant within sight of him was in some state of decay, either dead or dying, as they were twisted into vague tentacle-shapes. Fear reared its ugly head. Despite it, he couldn’t quite quell the well of curiosity blooming in his chest. He had never encountered something like this before, this kind of corruption. Why was he here? What was happening? How had he even gotten here?

He had no memory of leaving home. If he had been taken, where were his kidnappers? His mind whirred with possible explanations. It was a more likely hypothesis that he was still at home, but either hallucinating or dreaming. Or perhaps it was an aftereffect of an experiment gone wrong. Though he didn’t remember conducting any new experiments recently. Was he suffering from retrograde amnesia on top of everything else?

He should try to set some parameters to see if he could resolve some of his questions. Good thing he was experienced in the scientific method after decades of research on varying subjects. He might not be able to figure out where he was right now, there were too many variables, but he could test what he could do here. Maybe that would help limit his options. Some basic laws of physics were always a good place to start. Mind made up, he jumped.

That seemed quite normal. Ideally, he would have wished to have a more exact measurement but he would make do with what he had. The good thing was that gravity seemed to be the same. Well, for him. Unfortunately with such a small sample size, he couldn't really generalize his findings. Not to mention that he really should replicate it several times just to make sure that the experience stayed the same. He jumped a few times more. Good, no outliers. So far. He really should repeat it a few thousand times more to be certain, but the time taken outweighed the value of the effort. If it turned out he had the time he could always return to it.

Leaning more towards the hypothesis that he was at least still on the same plane of existence, he decided to try some simple magic.

“Luxém,” he muttered while twisting his wrist ever so slightly, lifting it up to the dark, fume-filled sky. He almost gagged again as the smell entered his mouth. Ew. The air was thick enough to taste. Yet no dancing ball of light came forth. In fact, it almost felt like something was suffocating his magic. He could almost feel it bubbling within, the force of it sizzling out before erupting out of his fingertips.

Okay, so no magic. That could be detrimental. But no results were also results. After all, even if he’d been extremely far away from all of the leylines he should have been able to cast such a simple spell. Would he be spent afterwards? Probably. But he, theoretically, should still be able to do it with enough concentration and energy. Which meant that either he was not on earth anymore or there was something else at play. Now what could be strong enough to be disrupting his casting?

“You must stop this Nalion Amakiir.”

An otherworldly voice boomed all around him. Nalion jumped, startled. He felt more than saw movement behind him and swiftly spun around. As his heart raced he came face to face with an entity of some kind. Its form was hard for his mind to grasp, it being more of a mixture of feelings and sensory stimuli: the scent of wild flowers, the color of musty moss, the sensation of warm dirt under one’s feet and the sound of leaves rustling in the wind.

His horrid surroundings were forgotten in an instant as he nearly squealed in delight. He did clap his hands enthusiastically though, beaming with excitement. After all, this must be some kind of nature-and-or-woodland-spirit! It could be a wonderful opportunity to learn more about nature magic, straight from the source! He couldn’t wait to gain a deeper understanding of the world and magic and science and himself and his place in the world. Had his soul always been connected to nature the way it had been during his lifetime? OR was that something that was different in each reincarnation? Thinking about it, was reincarnation really true or…

Numerous other questions in varying subjects began forming in his mind. Oh, if only he had his writing supplies! It really should all be jotted down, such precious opportunities were basically non-existent. Sure, he could go on just memory. Unfortunately, memory was a fickle thing. It easily distorted facts or would straight up leave something out due to capacity limits. Then again, maybe he could take some notes by writing directly in the decaying ground. It might help him to retain as much as possible until he had the opportunity to document it all as meticulously as he could. Oh, he had so many questions! Before he managed to open his mouth to rush out everything, the spirit continued.

“Stop this before it’s too late.”

Nalion’s mind halted in its tracks. Stop what?

“What do you mean?” Nalion asked tentatively, brow wrinkling in confusion. Then he remembered where he was, the rot slowly spreading all around them. Oh, yeah. “What do you need me to do?”

“You must find the Ashes of a Fallen Hero, willing Blood of the Maker and the First Poison. Combine these ingredients at the Eye of the World. Combine them and the corruption will be undone. If you do not succeed…”

Nalion’s surroundings suddenly took a turn for the worse. The sickness was spreading, rotting everything at an alarming rate. It kept rapidly getting worse and worse, and Nalion noticed with a growing trepidation how it was also getting harder to breathe due to the thick vapors floating above the ground. The fumes grew, compromising his vision as they stung his eyes. They immediately began to water. Squinting ahead, he forced himself to speak with the little air remaining to him.

“Wha-? Where do I find them? What’s the eye of the world?”

The spirit seemed to fade as the poison around Nalion grew. He gulped for air, only to be met with the putrid taste of the fumes. This time he did gag. He couldn’t see the sky anymore. The realization filled him with ice-cold dread, from the top of his head to the very soles of his feet.

“WAIT!” Nalion cried out desperately, while gasping for breath. “There’s… still so much… I don’t… understand, I -”

He was taken aback by a violent cough attack. It was as if his lungs were suddenly filled with slimy phlegm, which his body urgently attempted to rid him of.

- help!” His voice came out raspy and low, as if he hadn’t been speaking in years.

But alas, it was too late. The spirit was gone. He, and everything around him, was rotten beyond anything he or even the most skilled druidic masters could heal. Nalion’s heartbeat grew unsteady as he acknowledged the fact that he would perish here. With every breath he took the decay slithered its way deeper into his lungs. He doubled over as he coughed again, but to no avail. Pure and unadulterated fear pooled in his stomach as he could physically feel the corruption spreading from the air into his own body and mind. It reminded him a little of the time when he had been young and sickly. The suffocating feeling was eerily familiar even after all this time. Why would the spirit bring him here, only to kill him?

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“W- wait…” the whisper barely wrangled itself out of his chapped lips with his last breath.

Nalion awoke with a gasp. For a moment he merely laid still, trying to catch his breath and process what just happened. It was a dream. He had had a dream. He swallowed through the sudden lump in his throat, unsettled.

Still. The dreams were most often memories of earlier lives, though this one felt more like a warning of some sort than a past life. Nalion remembered the probably-a-spirit, the feeling of corruption creeping its way through every living being. It had been too powerful for anyone to stop. His head was spinning. Was that even possible? Why wouldn’t the gods interfere? Weren’t they supposed to be omnipotent? Or maybe this was the gods trying to warn them, trying to work together or something? Perhaps it was a test. Nalion had read about quests the gods had sent their chosen on. But they wouldn’t choose him, right? He was much more suited for rigorous background research than epic quests.

He took a deep breath as he focused on the feeling of the cool and unyielding wooden floor underneath his body. He then slowly exhaled whilst staring up at the unadorned roof of his little home. His Master would know what it meant, what they should do.

Determination coursed through his body. Using the strength it gave him, Nalion slowly arose from the floor to his trembling feet. He grimaced as his whole body protested against the sudden movement after being still for so long. Late last night he had started meditating, as was customary for elves when they needed rest from the burdens of the material world. Though instead of coming back to full consciousness in the lotus-position, which was the usual, he had awoken sprawled on the floor. Another sign that he had been sleeping.

He was going to die. It felt… Odd. Unreal. But that must be it, otherwise why would he have dreamt? Elves didn’t dream, not until they were closing their deaths. To be fair, “being close” could mean anything from dropping dead tomorrow to living 50 summers still. Even if 50 summers felt laughably little from an elven perspective.

He stretched his stiff and aching limbs before moving any further. Sleeping on the ground was definitely more taxing for the body than meditating as any normal person would. Nalion didn’t understand how the other races could get any rest at all.

Now that he was up and awake, his first instinct was to document everything he could remember. Even the slightest detail could prove vital if this was indeed a warning. He also wanted to be prepared when he’d talk with his Master. Nalion hurried to grab an empty notebook, a bottle of ink and one of his favorite quills. After scrabbling down everything as quickly as he could he rose up and made his way through his lodgings, carefully avoiding the piles of books he’d taken out the night before for some light evening reading.

His home wasn’t particularly large, but he didn’t need a lot of space either. As long as he had enough room for his books and his notes, he was content. As it was, there were rows upon rows of books neatly stacked in the bookcases all around the walls with a small cozy chair and an aged wooden desk in the furthermost corner. Scribbled notes on various subjects were lying around haphazardly on top of the desk as Nalion had been too tired to organize them directly after writing them yesterday evening.

He sighed deeply. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but he had to find out if he was close to death. Knowing about it would make it easier to shoulder the shocked looks he’d surely face in the village - if he indeed was dying. Besides, he’d always liked knowing things, planning things if he could. There was only one quick-surefire-way to find out before setting off to the village.

As he walked out of his small home he was greeted by an invigorating and cool breeze of an early spring morning. He shivered. The pale sun was rising ever higher in the cloudless sky, though the rays were not providing much in the way of warmth. Nalion walked with trepidation a few steps to the narrow river nearby, unable to draw any joy from the sight of shimmering water playfully gushing by. He held his breath as he gazed upon his reflection. The hazel eyes staring back at him were their usual shape. His shoulders sagged in instant relief as he exhaled noisily. No Crescening. Which meant that it hadn’t been a dream, more likely a vision or warning. Or some kind of hallucination. Though that was improbable since he hadn’t imbibed any hallucinogens and the thought of someone from the village wanting to drug him was just absurd.

He gave a somber nod to his mirror image. Time to go pay Master Tathallan a visit.

As he reached the outer edges of the small elven village nearby, Nalion offered polite waves to the few people who were up and about as he simultaneously beelined towards the village center - the temple. The sight of it filled him with a mixture of awe and pride even after all this time. He had seen many things during his life, yet nothing compared with seeing the giant sequoia so lovingly formed into a beautiful place of worship.

The temple was several stories high. Each story was built with the support of the gigantic branches of the tree - all the way to the very crown of green leafs. Inside there were spacious rooms decorated with the help of nature itself, intricately woven roots and fresh leaves in different hues of green forming tapestries depicting ages past. All around it - this living, breathing, tree - went a spiral staircase of branches. At the top of the staircase there were the altars of the gods. It was humbling what one could accomplish when one was working so interconnectedly with nature and druidic magic. The woodland elves had embraced druidism as followers of the goddess Maira after abandoning the more ruthless arcane arts.

The temple was built when the elves fleeing the Great War, the latest and most gruesome war between humans and elves, first arrived there. The huge sequoia had stood there Nalion’s whole life. He was born just a century after the war stopped, and this tree was easily over a thousand years old. It cemented his belief in the helping hand of the goddess.

Thanks to Maira, the vast forest and the clusters of villages were a safe haven for the woodland elves. A place where they could live peacefully while guarding the beautiful creations around them. The tranquility was mostly assured by the ever-changing forest. It made it impossible for someone to infiltrate their home without having intricate knowledge of how the forest worked and formed its paths. Anyone not initiated in the secrets would be confused as the trees moved around them, hearing the leaves whisper above them and seeing countless of eyes in the dark.

Nalion was brought out of his thoughts as he spotted his former teacher and current mentor, Master Tathallan, standing in the midst of younglings at the root of the gigantic tree. The Master was tall and slender, with her obsidian hair neatly braided around her head. She was much older than Nalion, yet it was difficult even for other elves to assess the age of an elf merely by looking at them. All adult elves looked outwardly about the same age. Master Tathallan was wearing her preferred dark green clothing which complemented her bronze skin well. As he drew closer, Nalion could see the orbs of warm light dancing in the air around his mentor as she passionately preached about the antecedents of the Great War.

“Master Tathallan! Can I ask you a question?” Nalion said in a rushed tone as he brushed past the group of younger elves. He believed in the power of education, learning from their history, but this was too important to wait until class was over.

“Good morning Nalion. What’s the rush?” Tathallan smiled fondly as she turned towards him.

Nalion looked at his mentor, a small wave of sadness crashing through him. The iris’ of her vivid green eyes had adopted the shape of half moons lying down. The Crescening, which marked the coming end of an elven life. His own eyes softened as the corners of his mouth tugged down ever so slightly. It was painful to think of a world without the wisdom of his mentor. It didn’t matter that Nalion had had plenty of time to gain acceptance of the fact since he first had seen the change, it hurt him nonetheless. He shook his head, gathering his thoughts as best as he could before the floodgates of his mind opened and a rapid stream of words poured out of his mouth.

“I saw something. Like a dream, but it wasn’t a dream, more like it was shown to me for some reason, like a vision or, or quite possibly a -”

“Class, this ends the time we have this morning, off you go!” the older elf abruptly interrupted Nalions rambling, waving her students away. She gave Nalion a look he couldn’t quite decipher as she continued: “Come Nalion, let’s go inside.”

They walked inside one of the ground-level rooms within the tree, sat down, and then Nalion explained everything in a somewhat calmer manner. The not-dream dream, the corruption, the spirit, the “warning” and the possibility of a cure. Master Tathallan’s eyes grew wider the more Nalion spoke. She was clearly alarmed, but not disbelieving as Nalion had feared. It settled some of the anxiety swirling in his stomach. He had done his part. It was out of his hands now.

“If this is true, this is worrying indeed,” the older elf said in a low voice. “I believe we should take this warning seriously. And rest assured, this is a warning. For some time I have heard reports of something…” His master paused, as if she was looking for the right word. “Something spreading from the swamps up North…” She trailed off again as she looked out of the small window by her side.

“Nalion,” Master Tathallan said sharply as she snapped her gaze back, looking intenselý into his eyes.

“You must not tell anyone what you just told me. Not even to your mother. This quest was given to you in secret and thus a secret it must remain. You alone must embark on it.”

“But Master Tathallan, surely you could do this better, or accompany me, and what about moth-,” Nalion started, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He was just a normal elf, with a normal life. He enjoyed reading books, researching different intriguing subjects and leaving other people to live their lives in peace as they did the same to him.

But his mentor only shook her head. “I believe this quest was given to you for a reason. There’s also the small matter of the, you-know,” she said with a small smile while gesturing towards the Crescening of her eyes.

“Oh, right,” Nalion mumbled, looking away.

The older elf continued in a compassionate tone, “Now, many of these ingredients I haven’t got the faintest clue of what they might mean, I can try to look into this while you’re away. But the ashes of a fallen hero… Yes, I believe I know just the place.”