The smoke from the hookah coils in the air.

The chamber is quiet save for the occasional flutter of wings and soft crooning from the pigeons.

I lounge against Emila's coiled body and take a drag from the pipe. I haven't felt this calm since waking on that fucking Nautiloid.

Several druids fill the room. More linger outside. Legs are shaking. Bodies are shifting.

Everyone is waiting.

Hembry holds out his hands, grasps the druids next to him. "Let's pray." They form a circle and he begins muttering about the Oak Father.

Bex hovers near Astarion. He's bent over several sheets of paper, scribbling with an intensity I never thought him capable of.

She points at a line. "Organized or voluntary."

He lifts the quill. "Prudent." He scratches out a line and continues writing.

Gustav flutters to her shoulder and nestles in the bend of her neck. She gives him a gentle pat.

There is movement near the corridor. Aelar and his Grove Wardens fill the gaps in the chamber. I avert my gaze, trying not to think about the spaces between. I take a drag from the hookah to distract myself.

He shuffles his way to the table. "Sorry for our tardiness, we had some last-minute differences of opinion with a few of my wardens."

Languid curls of smoke drift from my nose. "Was it dealt with?"

He gives a single, silent nod.

I set the hookah pipe down as Emila hoists me to my feet.

"Bex." I nod her over to the table. She squeezes her way through and stands next to me.

Her eyes sweep across the gathered druids. "Our lead revealed some very interesting information. It confirmed our suspicions." She pulls out the note and lays it on the table. "Apikusis was able to verify its provenance through her network."

"I deserve little credit. I have a wonderful team," Apikusis says, beaming. A rat stands proudly on the table in front of her. She picks him up and scratches his chin. "To think we were wasting our time being simple couriers."

Bex tips her head to her. "I commend you for what you've built in such a short time."

Hembry lifts himself in his seat. "All of this has shown us the truth of it. We can no longer rely on the old ways. Times are changing. The threat of the Absolute has far greater implications than anything we've faced in a millennium. Shar. The Cult of the Howling Hatred..."

"Shadow Druids." My words cut through the room, and everything falls still.

Hembry's breath catches and he slowly sits back.

I tap my claw on the note. "This all leads back to Archdruid Aelis."

"Aelis." Aelar says sharply. "It can't be…"

"You know them?"

"Yes… she… she is my cousin. Gone for years, we thought she was dead." Aelar leans forward on the table. "Archdruid... of the Shadow Druids." He shakes his head. "Death would have been simpler."

"I'm sorry you had to learn this way. Perhaps once everything is said and done, we can bring her back to the light."

"Perhaps. Though I've seen the nature of cultists. Cleansing their minds of their ideologies is nearly impossible, and her being Archdruid... no…" He looks at his wardens. "Archdruid Aelis is just another Shadow Druid. She's trying to take the grove. Cut us off. Keep us against our will or kill us outright. We will not let that stand."

Maylee gets to her feet. "How can you say that about your own kin?"

"Maylee." He breathes. "I know what you've been through. We've all been through enough to know how these things go. She is my cousin, yes, and I love her dearly. If we have a chance, then of course I will do everything in my power to save her from herself. But we cannot afford to hesitate. She will not afford us the same mercy."

He takes her hand and gently kisses her fingers.

She brings his hand to her cheek. "I understand."

I track the faces staring back at me. "Shadow Druids. What do we know about them? Power-hungry isolationists. Ready to use subterfuge to infiltrate a verdant grove. Violent towards outsiders. They are... distasteful."

Apikusis snorts. "A fantastic understatement."

Bex leans firmly on the table, and Gustav flutters to a root hanging from the earthen wall. "My father and I were ambushed by Shadow Druids more than once. They favor guerrilla tactics. They use suits that help them blend into the forest path."

I glance at Aelar. "Hidden in plain sight."

Aelar's voice grows shallow. "Not again."

Maylee squeezes his hand and he gives her a weary smile.

"Don't lose the run of yourself," she says softly.

"I'll be okay." He focuses on the people around him. "...hidden in plain sight."

I pull Fezzerk's axe from my back. "We need to move quickly. Take the chanters first. Individuals who resist must be subdued. This is not negotiable."

I set the axe on the table.

"We cannot let their rhetoric spread, or what happens here today will come down on us tenfold."

Maylee takes a sharp breath in; eyes locked on the golden blade of the great axe.

Apikusis rubs her forehead. "This was supposed to just be a conversation with Kagha."

"Is that what you genuinely believed?"

She grips her elbows. "No." She's fixed on me with even eyes. "I know better."

Aelar reaches forward, grabbing the hilt of the axe.

I quickly put my hand over his. "Do not take the axe unless you are able to wield it, First Warden."

His grip tightens on the hilt. I lift my hand and he slowly drags the axe toward him. "I take up the mantle, in the name of Silvanus. May the Peace Bringer bear witness to my vow. I will cut the blight that threatens the life of our verdant grove. We demand balance. As is our way."

"When it comes to Kagha: Bex, Astarion, Emila, and I will advance through the druid's chamber. Aelar, you and a small contingent will cut off the passage behind the library."

He gives a stiff nod. "It will be done."

"Root out any Shadow Druids you can. In the meantime, go home. Prepare. Bex and I need time to clear the hollow. Mid-morning, gather in the inner sanctum. Look for us at the stone archway. We'll give the signal. A snap. Clean. Simple. Innocuous. Then we move and reclaim the peace that is rightfully yours."

A fist rises and a man's voice carries from the back. "Enough of the Rite!"

"Hear, hear!"

Aelar squares his shoulders. "Let's be done with this."

Hembry stands. "I think we've all felt it. Our cause has been consecrated. Today, the Oak Father is watching, and the Peace Bringer fights at our side!"

Bex and I walk the hollow.

"It's happening," she breathes. "It's actually happening. I would never have imagined."

Children laugh as they dart past us. The tieflings have already started to make their way to Zevlor's chamber.

I glance down at her. "Thank you for offering your services to the cause. I don't think we could have found that note without you."

She laughs lightly. "Please, I hardly did anything."

"You're right. I take it back."

She gawks at me and shoves me playfully.

I laugh, but bump into a boy who had been trying to pass. He's knocked into the dirt.

"Nnnnngh!” He's landed on his bottom, but he's no worse for wear.

"Sorry, lad." I offer my hand.

He doesn't take it, standing on his own and dusting himself off. He looks at his open palms. Filthy.

I pull a handkerchief from my pocket and offer it to him. "What's your name?"

He takes it and diligently wipes his hands but says nothing.

"Doni," Bex says. "Come on, you can say your name."

He doesn't look at us and begins to dart off but stops only a few paces away. He returns, holding the handkerchief up to me.

"Keep it. Your hands may get dirty again."

He's facing me, but he seems to be looking past me. He pulls the handkerchief back and gives us a low bow before running off again.

Bex shakes her head. "He's a good boy, but he's a mute."

"A mute?" I watch him dash up a ladder as we continue down the path. The handkerchief is sticking out of his back pocket. He joins the other children, sparring with swords. Wooden blades clink as they battle. "He seems to have a voice. Perhaps he has nothing to say."

"Perhaps. I haven't heard him speak since our journey started."

We make it to the platform of Bex's camp.

She climbs.

"If I were in his position, I wouldn't have much to say either." I mutter.

Danis sits on a crate with a knife, carefully carving a block of wood. He has yet to join the others. He sees Bex and grows cold in his seat.

She gives him a light peck on the cheek. “Love, I’m going to need you to remain with Zevlor for a bit.”

"Yes." Danis's face hardens. "I heard something might be afoot. What’s going on?"

"I can't discuss it in detail, but there is trouble in the grove. I don't want you to get caught up in it."

"Me? And you're going to dash right into the middle of this trouble?"

"It's what Vash and I have been working on. Please, just go with Zevlor."

“Is that what you’ve been doing this whole time?” He glances down at me and his voice grows quiet. "I thought..." His words fall short, and the tension that had been binding his shoulders seems to melt away, though not entirely.

"Go," Bex says with a soft smile. "I'll be okay. I promise."

"If something is happening in the grove, I deserve to know what it is. Please, stop keeping things from me!"

Bex falls silent, the spade of her tail rests lightly on the ground. "I'm sorry Danis. I can't."

"I see." The air seems to leave the space between them. He slowly gets to his feet, clutching his whittling knife and wood. He places them in a rucksack, slings it over his shoulder, and climbs down. "Zevlor's quarters, right?"

She nods.

He watches her a moment more before walking down the path.

She climbs down and watches him go. Her brow furrowed, shoulders squared, she's watching something slip through her fingers and letting go.

"Well, if it isn't the busy beavers."

A snarky voice catches us from behind. We turn and find a child with an eyepatch standing with her arms crossed. Self-assured and entitled to our attention.

"What's this I hear about the grove? The others have been whispering about it." She leans in with a muddy scowl. "I hate being kept in the dark, but you two have been hard to track down."

"Apologies for not making ourselves more available to you," I say with a grin.

"Quit wasting my time and tell me what's going on."

The lip on this child.

"All you need to know is this: seek safety with Zevlor."

She scoffs. "Me and my kids aren't going into that death hole. If something goes down, we've got a much better place to be."

"Mol," Bex says, "wherever this Dragons Lair is, it can't be safer than with the rest of the caravan."

"Of course it's safer. You can't even tell me where it is, and I like you."

There's no greater honor than to be liked by a feral cat.

"You don't understand."

"Of course I don't! I asked you a straight question and you're the one keeping the truth from me." She leans forward. "It's disrespectful."

I crouch down. "Mol, I'm not going to insult you by pretending what's about to happen is going to be clean. You clearly know better. We're telling you what we're telling everyone. Get to safety. Wait for the smoke to clear. If you survive, then you'll have the answer you're looking for."

She scoffs. "At least you're not asking me to trust you. I don't. We'll survive." She puts a hand on her hip. "But this is your only chance to do us right. Don't fuck it up." She presses her fingers to her lips and lets out a sharp whistle. The children take off down the path, laughing and hollering.

Doni is one of the last. He has his handkerchief in hand. He waves it at us before bolting after the others.

Bex and I walk the path. The hollow is still, and quiet.

"Good," Bex breathes.

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ready?"

She flexes her hand and closes her eyes for a moment. A soft rush of air passes across the path. Beams of sunlight catch the swirls of dust in the air. The tittering of a bird darting through the hollow fills the silence.

She opens her eyes and her nostrils flare. "Yes."

We walk toward the stone archway leading to the inner sanctum. The team of six tiefling guards sit patiently on a collection of crates several paces back from the stone archway.

Tilses and Kaldani stand among them.

"Thank you for volunteering," I say. "It's time. When the druids move, make sure none pass into the hollow. We can't have them threatening the caravan."

Kaldani is propped against an ox cart. "Shouldn't be too hard to hold the line."

"Don't underestimate them. They have mastery of magic that you may not have seen before. They can wildshape."

"Please." She pulls two short swords. "I was a runner in Avernus. I've faced hell beasts and infernal war machines. I've survived through it all."

Bex approaches her. "I believe you, Kaldani. I was also a runner. But please don't expect that being back on the material plane will make this any easier."

Kaldani lowers her swords and gives Bex a modest nod.

An armored man takes Bex's hand. "Are you really going in there? Among the madness?"

She gently pulls her hand free. "I'll be okay, Ikaron. I've been preparing for this."

"Right." He drops his arms. "Of course you have."

I step behind her. "Form a line. You hold the caravan's survival in your hands."

He looks up at me as the others get into position. My hand settles between Bex's shoulders as we make our way to the archway.

Druid guards stand at the entrance of the inner sanctum, quarter staffs held tight. They glance at one another as a hush falls across the grove.

Bex and I hold our position. I look down at her. Her cloak sitting neatly across her shoulders, hands tucked into broad sleeves, chin high, eyes focused. She's scanning the beach beyond the ritual site.

We finally see him. Astarion rises from the stone steps that lead from the riverbank. He steps lightly onto the soft grass of the inner sanctum and approaches us.

He doesn't bother holding back his grin. "Gods this is exciting," he says, leaning into us. "I can't wait to see this beautiful catastrophe. Please, proceed." He gives a poised bow and holds out his arm, paperwork held delicately in his fingers.

Bex raises her hand high, and the guards are locked onto her with a held breath.

She snaps.

A druid rushes one of the chanters. He throws a bag over her head and drags her away.

A scream rips through the air and the chanters scatter.

They're swarmed by the rebels.

I lean down to Bex and point toward an elder druid. He is wildly swinging his shillelagh, cracking one of the rebels across the face before being tackled, gagged, and bound. "That's what blind conviction looks like. The desperate flailing of stubborn men."

She glances at me and gently rests her hand on her chest.

Astarion bounces on his heels and claps delightedly. "You know, in all my years, I've never witnessed a coup. What a show!"

A loyalist is chased and cornered between two ancient pillars. She sprays a cloud of poison at the advancing rebels. One man catches it in his throat and falls, choked by the assault. A woman with raven hair kneels by his side. He gasps and grips his throat. He's dragged away by fellow rebels.

The raven-haired woman pulls loose her quarterstaff and changes the loyalist. Staffs clash, and I hear shouting, but I can't make out what's being said. The raven-haired woman presses the loyalist to her knees and cracks her in the back of the head. The loyalist drops and goes still.

A few druids rush past us, bumping into my shoulder as they go.

Aelar shouts from across the sanctum. "Don't let them escape!"

They disappear up the trail toward the tiefling guards.

Astarion steps back and Bex and I chase after them. The guards have caught them. One of the druids lies writhing on the ground with a crossbow bolt in his hip. The other is being restrained, but he summons a burning light that sears Tilses.

She drops and rolls out of the beam. She sits, holding out her arms. Blisters quickly form and she begins to tremble.

"Mragreshem..." She says in a quaking voice.

Bex jogs up to her and gives her a healing potion. Tilses drinks and steadies, though the blisters remain.

The druid pulls free and bolts toward the hollow.

I break out into a sprint after the man.

"Grovel!"

The spell rushes through him. He staves it off, but his body is staggered from fighting the spell. His knees hit the dirt.

I'm on him at once, snatching his hair and pulling him back. He winces and grabs my wrists. His body begins to break and contort. My feet leave the ground as he rises below me, a bear. I'm clinging to his pelt as he bucks and snaps at me.

I pull my greatsword and drive it into the beast's ribs. He roars and stands, before slamming himself, back first into the ground, landing hard on top of me.

The wind is knocked out of me. I dig my fingers deep into his fur and unleash bolts of electricity that rip through my bones and course through him. He goes stiff and tips over. I stagger to my feet and wrench my sword from his ribs. Red static snaps across my hands. I slam my sword down on him and my smite detonates, sending me skidding back. The bear groans as I approach. I run him through once more and he slowly shifts back into a man. He looks at me, and I pull my sword from his chest. He slumps forward. I catch him and throw him over my shoulder.

Ikaron eyes the limp body as I follow Bex back into the inner sanctum.

Things have settled into an uneasy victory. The wounded and the dead mingle with the surviving rebels. The captured loyalists are tied and kneeling before the altar of Silvanus. Soft sobs and huddled druids cling to each other as blood soaks into the soil.

Bex tracks the aftermath, her face is sunken. Shoulders tense.

Hembry gathers a small group and begins guiding them in prayer.

"The walls of iniquity will not pull us into an imbalance that consumes this sacred circle. In our twilight hour, Silvanus will answer.

By blessing or else by blood."

"By blessing or else by blood." The congregation echoes.

"Silvanus has chosen his instrument of balance. Blessed be the Peace Bringer. A promise. A sign."

Astarion stares at them as he steps next to us. He curls his nose and focuses on us. "We're not done yet..."

"You're right," Bex says, then she stills. "They are free. Only now seeing what freedom costs. Another storm weathered."

She puts a hand on my arm and squeezes gently.

Emila weaves her way through the milling druids. Clasping hands, offering comfort where she can. She finally makes it to us.

"It's time," I say. They follow me into the druid's chamber.

The chill of the chamber cuts cleanly after the heat of the insurrection. It feels like stepping into another world.

The main chamber is too quiet. The stone table sits empty. Then shouts rise from the library.

I move. The door to the hidden tunnel is open, but Kagha, Rath, and a short man with ragged umber hair are all blocked from entering the cavern.

"Where are they?!" Aelar's voice echoes across the room. His footing is steadfast, hands firmly gripping the golden axe. His wardens stand ready behind him.

"Emila, the door," I say.

She charges back and swiftly closes off the only other exit.

Kagha's scimitars hang low in her grip. "Out of my way! You've all gone mad. I will not suffer the indignity of being usurped when all I was trying to do was protect you!"

"You're delusional." Aelar leans in. "You always have been."

"Kagha." My voice catches her.

"You! Is it you who have turned my circle against me?"

She looks to Aelar. "This is why we can't trust outsiders. Look at us! We are kin and yet you stand against me."

Aelar steps forward. "Sealing ourselves off from the world is not the answer."

"It is the only answer."

"You cannot believe that. You speak of outsiders with hatred, and yet you welcome Shadow Druids into our grove."

"They are not outsiders. They know Silvanus's will. They feel it. You listen to Hembry as if he were the avatar of Silvanus himself, but he is just a fool with false prophecies. His head is addled from too much drink."

Aelar's jaw tightens. "Blasphemy."

Something presses against my foot. A rat sniffs around my boot. The faintest trace of the Weave ripples around it. My heel cracks down on it. With a flash of light, and a fizzle of shadow magic, it erupts into a druid. He's a halfling, wearing dark raiments, decorated in autumn leaves.

"The rats!" I bark.

Astarion laughs. "My specialty." He dives, snatching another rat and slamming his dagger into it. A grey-haired halfling woman emerges from wildshape. He holds the blade under her chin and she raises her hands.

Bex drops, snatching the tail on another rat. She twists its neck and a final Shadow Druid bursts forth. She lets out a cry, trapped in Bex's arms.

The man below me grits his teeth as I lean onto him. "Where is Olodon?"

He growls and claws at my foot.

I place the tip of my sword carefully at the center of his throat and begin to press. The skin creases beneath my blade.

"N-no!" Warm blood trickles down his neck.

"Stop!" The grey-haired woman's voice stays my hand. "I'm Olodon."

Kagha cries in desperation. "Mistress, no!" She stumbles toward her.

Astarion presses the dagger against Olodon's skin and she breathes in sharply.

Kagha freezes.

Rath moves in and seizes her. I toss him a length of rope. He binds her wrists, his brow creased, mouth parted.

"You've seen the light. Did you know about the Shadow Druids?"

"N-No... I would have never agreed to this if I had known they were involved."

"Yet, the Rite was salvation when it served your needs."

His face twists. "I didn't mean to put anyone in danger. I... wasn't thinking."

"An interesting blunder to make." I lift myself from the shadow druid. "Bind and gag him."

A few wardens seize him.

I straighten and turn to Astarion. "If you will."

"Gladly." He slides the paper in front of Emila.

She grabs a quill and signs. "Rath. You're acting First Druid, now."

"What? I am?"

"Yes." She moves the paper in front of him. "Have a seat."

"What is this?" He slowly sits, looking over the document.

"It's a promise," I say. "That nothing like this will happen again. Not as long as you're under my protection."

He blinks and carefully takes the quill in hand. "I..." He reads it once more. "...Is this necessary?"

"If you want my protection, it is."

He twirls the quill between his fingers, then shakes his head and signs.

Ordinance of the Emerald Grove.

By the authority vested in the Druidic Circle of the Emerald Grove, the undersigned do hereby grant Temporary Stewardship of the Emerald Grove to Vash Neel.

The authority of this station shall encompass the Emerald Grove, its associated lands, and all druidic holdings occupied therein.

The duties of the Steward shall include but not be limited to: asset management, resource delegation, civil coordination, and command authority over any organized or voluntary militia operating within said jurisdiction.

This decree shall remain in effect until the return of First Druid Halsin, at which time the Stewardship shall be subject to review.

Signed,

Rath M. Coria - Acting First Druid of the Emerald Grove

Witnessed,

Emila R. Szaide

Prepared and Presented by,

Astarion Ancunín - Magistrate of Baldur's Gate

He places the quill on the table and pushes the ordinance forward.

Astarion pulls a ring from his pocket. He looks at the signet engraved into it and goes quiet.

"I can't believe after all this time, I finally get to use it again."

His mouth hangs open slightly, holding back words too painful to say. He finally lights a candle, dripping the wax onto the corner of the paper and pressing his signet into it.

"There." He says with a satisfied breath. "Simple."

There is a blink of light and from the corner of my eye. I see Bex train her crossbow on me. She shoots and the bolt catches me in the shoulder. I clutch the shaft, then feel something crack against the back of my head. I double over, and several wardens tackle a man behind me.

Rath stammers. "Markoryl!"

Bex drops the crossbow and dashes to me, reaching out a hand. "Vash! I didn't mean to hit you! I thought I had a clear shot. I'm..." I snatch her wrist and she inhales sharply.

"Leave it."

Markoryl is being held by three wardens. I approach, still clutching the shaft. I give them a nod and they release him.

"Take the prisoners to the inner sanctum. Leave us."

Markoryl stands, nose curled. "You think you have a right to lead us... that paper means nothing." He spits on my boot.

The moment the door to the chamber closes my fist cracks against his jaw. I grip his hair and drag him in front of Bex. "A clear shot." He staggers to his knees, blood running from his nose and lip.

"Vash, this is..." She whispers.

"You were willing to kill him a moment ago. I'm giving you the opportunity now. What do you want to do with him?"

She looks into my eyes, searching my face. "Are you really asking me to do this?"

I wait.

Her attention turns to the bolt in my shoulder. Her mouth opens and closes, then her eyes become empty. She draws her dagger and grips the back of his head, driving the blade into his throat. He falls, fading quietly on the stone floor.

She studies the body below her. "I just executed this man."

"A mercy." I murmur. "He was either going to die here or out there."

"What do you mean?"

My grip tightens around the bolt shaft. With a held breath I rip it from my shoulder, letting out a stiff exhale. I drop it with a clatter and take a moment to catch my breath.

"We can't allow them to live after what they've done. We need to make an example of them. This is how we keep the peace."

She stiffens. "That doesn't sound like peace to me."

"What were you hoping for?"

"We won. There's no need for further bloodshed. What purpose does that serve outside of becoming tyrannical?"

"Bex." I gently take her shoulders. "Tyranny is a lie told by people who can't accept the truth behind peace. It is not possible without fear."

She pushes my hands off her shoulders. "No. No, this... this is too far."

"Too far? Bex, there are bodies outside. You crossed the threshold of moral indignity when you snapped your fingers."

"Stop it!" Her voice echoes. She breathes, staring into my face. "You really don't know what you do to people, do you? What you do to me."

She brushes past me and I reach for her but quickly pull my hand back.

She's gone.

The light hits my eyes as I cross back into the inner sanctum. I scan the crowd. Bex is nowhere to be seen.

I straighten my cloak and the murmurs of the crowd soften as I step next to Aelar. He has Olodon positioned in front of him.

He places his boot on Olodon's back and she pitches forward with a grunt, legs splayed awkwardly.

Aelar hands me the golden axe, and I face the crowd.

"Today carries the weight of what peace costs in a world with no compassion.

You demonstrated an unequivocal resolve.

You heard the words of Silvanus.

Witness me, as you begin again."

The axe reflects the light of the sun; my focus is singular.

Olodon begins to struggle beneath him, biting her gag.

"By His will. By my hand."

The sound is a hush of metal and flesh. Her head rolls and the druids step back. It settles at their feet. I stoop down and touch my fingers to the blood and close my eyes. I feel a stillness in my chest and the whispers calm.

A man in the crowd retches into the grass. A murmur rises before Kagha's wailing rattles the air.

A faint voice rises from the shifting bodies. "Wh-When will Halsin be back?"

I search the crowd for the voice. "May the man who spoke step forward."

Hesitant and shuffling, a young man comes forward. He's dressed in an apron and is clutching two elbow-length gloves wrung tightly in his fists.

"What is your name?" I say.

He stares down at my feet. "Derrok, Ser." He briefly glances at Olodon's head before quickly looking away with a shudder.

"Derrok." I hand the axe back to Aelar before approaching him. "Halsin has decided to remain at the goblin camp, despite me warning him about the dangers here."

The man gently shakes his head. "No. He would never abandon us."

I stare at him, then gesture to scene before him. "Where is he?"

The man scans the sanctuary. Bodies are already being tended to, but the blood remains. His shoulders fall.

"I... I cannot feel safe in the grove if we are left to fend for ourselves."

"You are not alone, brother." My hand settles on his shoulder. "You are under my protection until he returns."

"Oh." He glances at my hand before giving a nod and stepping back.

Aelar steps forward. "The Shadow Druids' infiltration will not go unanswered." He raises the axe high, as a warden positions one of the shadow druids below him. With a swift cleave, prisoner becomes another body for the pile. The last shadow druid succumbs to the same fate.

Aelar runs a sleeve under his nose as he looks down at them before turning to Kagha. He nods, and she's pushed down in front of him. He raises the axe.

"Stop!" I dash up and he stays his hand.

"Kagha will remain."

Aelar lowers the axe. He doesn't break his gaze from me.

I gesture to the warden. "Take the loyalists to the cells. Leave Kagha."

Kagha heaves beneath Aelar.

"No!" One of the prisoners breaks free and runs. Hands bound, bag over her head. She staggers but moves quickly.

I catch her and we both sink to our knees.

"Please! Let me go! I didn't know!" She shudders and soft sobs come from behind the hood. "I swear, I didn't know."

"What is your name?"

She breathes, trying to find her voice. "Greta, Ser. Are you Peace Bringer?"

"Yes."

"Silvanus' Mercy. Had I known the Shadow Druids were behind all this I would have never agreed. I just wanted to protect my family." She leans forward, pressing her face into my chest. "Please. I'm not one of them, I swear."

"Greta. Breathe with me."

We take a few breaths, and I gently lift the hood.

She looks up at me, face flushed and smudged with tears. "Please."

"I believe you."

She closes her eyes as a few more tears stream down. "Thank the Oak Father."

"Come." I lift her as we stand. I take a dagger and cut her bindings. "Be at peace."

She rubs her wrists and glances at me. "Blessed be the Peace Bringer." A woman dashes up to her, grabbing her cheeks. "Greta!" She brushes her hair back and embraces her. "Thank Silvanus."

Greta's soft sobs return, burying her face in the woman's thick curled hair. "I'm sorry."

"No. No. I understand. Come..." She guides her away.

I kneel down and cut Kagha's bindings, then lift her to her feet. I retrieve Olodon's head and press it into her hands.

A sharp gasp escapes her as she tries to drop it, but I hold her wrists. "Take the head of Olodon to Cloakwood. Find your circle. Let them see the fate of those who stand against me."

She tries to pull her hands free, but my grip tightens. "Look at her, Kagha. Do not hide from what you've done."

The cold mask of Olodon stares back at her as Kagha's chin curls. "Gods..." She says in a hoarse voice.

"May Silvanus guide you on your journey." I look to Aelar. "Take her."

The crowd follows as he drags her through the ivy gate and casts her out, tossing a rucksack at her feet.

"An apt fate." I speak. "Facing the dangers you wished to cast upon the innocent. May this be a new dawning for the Emerald Grove.

By His will. By my hand."