I sit quietly next to Emila, lounging against her coiled body. I pull a drag from the hookah and exhale deeply, feeling calmer than I have since waking on that fucking Nautiloid.

We can hear a pin drop in the chamber. Astarion is clad in his leather armor, myriad knives hidden beneath a fine black cloak. He's bent over several sheets of paper, scribbling with an intensity I never thought him capable of.

Of the many druids packed into the chamber, legs are shaking, bodies are shifting.

Everyone is waiting.

Bex has a hand on a bookcase, leaning pensively, eyes fixed on the dusty tomes. Gustav is nestled on her shoulder.

Hembry is holding hands with a circle of six druids, muttering a prayer.

We finally see a body entering. Aelar and his Grove Wardens fill the gaps in the chamber. 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 says nothing but gives a modest 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 was fruitful and yielded some very interesting information. Information we may have suspected all along." 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 an invaluable team." Apikusis beams with pride, a rat standing vigil on the table in front of her. "To think we were wasting our time being simple couriers."

Bex places a hand on her shoulder. "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 silent.

Hembry's breath catches and he slowly sits back.

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

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

"You know them?"

"Yes… she… she was my cousin. Gone for years, we thought she was dead." Aelar leans forward, hanging his head. "By Silvanus's Mercy. Death would have been more forgiving than to learn she took up with the Shadow Druids."

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

He becomes withdrawn. "Perhaps. Though I've seen the nature of cultists. Cleansing their mind 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 family? This isn't who you are!"

He shifts his weight, turning his attention to her. Her face is twisted, the fear, the uncertainty.

"Maylee. 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 be unrealistic. Too much is at stake. I'm sorry if this ruins the image you had of me, but these are dire times. Don't lose the run of yourself now. I need you."

She slowly sits back down and says no more.

"Shadow Druids." My voice reclaims the silence. "What do we know of them? Power-hungry isolationists. Ready to use subterfuge to infiltrate a verdant grove. Violent towards outsiders. They are... distasteful."

Apikusis snorts, "A fantastic understatement."

Gustav flutters to perch on a stiff root protruding from an earthen wall.

Bex leans firmly on the table. "My father and I often heard stories of Shadow Druids ambushing merchant caravans just outside of Cloakwood. It has become infamous. Caravans have taken to booby trapping their carts or sending decoys to stave off attacks on the more valuable merchandise. The Shadow Druids primarily take food and fibers: cotton, wool, and silk. Rarely weapons and gold, yet they are always armed with fine simitars. Their smiths must be legendary."

"It seems they favor guerilla tactics." I say, "Hidden in plain sight."

Aelar's voice grows shallow and he mutters, almost to himself. "Not again."

Maylee swiftly rises, placing her chair behind Aelar.

He takes it with a weary smile.

Her hand presses softly on his shoulder. "Don't lose the run of yourself."

"I'll be okay." He grips his knees and 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. Anyone else who resists must be subdued. This is not negotiable. We will give them a chance to speak."

I set the axe on the table.

"Individuals that cannot be swayed must be culled or their rhetoric will spread. We cannot let that happen."

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 when you brought me in?"

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 as he waits for my release. I do, 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." He brings the axe into his lap.

"Bex, Astarion, Emila, and I will face Kagha. When the time comes, we will bring her forth to face the circle."

A murmur moves through the room. "Outsiders..."

"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."

Soft voices rise once again.

"It's time."

"Are we ready?"

"We have to be."

"Enough of the Rite."

Hembry stands and the room falls silent once again. "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. A serenity shared between us.

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

Children laugh as they dart past us along the path. 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, then."

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 rear but is no worse for wear.

"Sorry, lad." I offer my hand.

He doesn't take it. He lifts himself up and dusts himself off. He looks at his open palms. Filthy.

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

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

Bex and I share a glance, and the boy begins to run off but stops abruptly only a few paces away. He returns, holding the kerchief up to me.

"Keep it, your hands may get dirty again." I say with a wry smile.

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

"Doni.” Bex says. “He's a good kid, but he's a mute."

"A mute?" I watch him dash up a ladder as we continue down the path. The kerchief is sticking out of his back pocket. He joins the other children for some swordplay. The sound of wooden blades clink together 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 murmur.

Danis sits on a crate with a knife, carefully carving away at 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 into defiance. "I heard something might be afoot. What’s going on?"

“I cannot discuss it in detail, but there is trouble in the grove. I don't want you getting caught up in it.”

"Me? And you're going to, what, 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 kind 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." He says with a patient desperation.

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

"I see." His eyes drop, and 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 chamber, right?"

She nods.

He presses his lips together, watching her a moment more before getting himself to safety.

Bex climbs down and watches him leave. She's pensive, like she's watching something slip through her fingers. Something she's letting go.

I step next to her. She doesn't acknowledge me. She doesn't need to.

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

A snarky voice catches us from behind. We turn to see a child with an eyepatch standing with her arms folded. 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."

"Possibly because we only just arrived back in the Hollow. I'm Vash, what's your name?"

"Mol. Now quit wasting my time and tell me what's going on."

The lip on this child.

"All you need to know is you need to be in the chamber 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."

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

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

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

"Then I suggest you get the others to the Dragons Lair, quickly." I say. "Don't come out until the evening. Can you do that?"

"Yeah." She puts a hand on her hip. "Just make sure things don't get messy. Okay?"

"Messy." I'm not sure what qualifies as messy. "Right. We'll keep it clean."

Mol 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 kerchief in hand and awkwardly waves it at us before bolting after the others.

-

With the hollow cleared we head back to the grove. The team of six tiefling guards sit patiently up the path from the archway that leads into the inner sanctum.

Tilses and Kaldani stand among them.

"Thank you for volunteering." I say, getting their attention. "Despite not knowing exactly what you've volunteered for. The truth of it is this. The Rite of Thorns doesn't just threaten the caravan, it threatens the druids themselves. Of course, in matters such as this, there is dissent."

Kaldani has propped herself on an ox cart, hovering over the others. "Dissent. So that's what's going on."

"Precisely. Unfortunately, diplomacy did not work. This is the only option you have left. I expect you to protect the hollow from any druids that may try to leave the inner sanctum." I study the tieflings watching me, silent. "Are you prepared to defend the caravan?"

"Yes!" Tilses says, standing as a proud paladin.

The others stand with her. A few nervous glances are exchanged, but most pull their weapons.

Kaldani hops down, gripping her crossbow. "The bastards won't be getting by us."

An armored man places a hand on Bex's shoulder. "Are you going in there? Among the madness?"

"I'll be okay, Ikaron. I've been preparing for this."

He looks despondent but gives Bex a nod.

The tieflings form a line we make our way to the stone arch entrance of the inner sanctum.

We stand before the guards who have their quarter staffs held tight, blocking our path. 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 her 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 to the beach. He's completed his work and steps lightly onto the soft grass of the inner sanctum.

I feel a static rise within me as a faint smirk crosses my face. I'm holding my hands tight behind my back, but I feel them tremble in anticipation.

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

With a snap of her fingers, everything begins to move.

The guards break, and Bex and I step forward.

A druid runs up behind one of the chanters who is performing the Rite. A bag is thrown over her head, and she is dragged down, pinned by two other druids, hands and ankles bound.

A scream rips through the air as the chanters begin to scatter.

Everything is in motion.

The few druids who remained loyal to Kagha are suddenly swarmed by the rebels. Cries rise from the surge of bodies as the circle consumes itself.

A few of the loyalists are armed and fighting back, though they are quickly outnumbered.

That's what strength in conviction looks like… the death throes of stubborn men.

An elder druid is swinging his shillelagh wildly, cracking one of the rebels across the face before being tackled, gagged, and bound.

Another loyalist is chased and cornered between two ancient pillars. She shoots a spray of poison at the advancing rebels. One man catches it in his throat and falls, choked by the assault. A rebel woman with raven hair kneels by his side. "Kaid! Are you alright?" He gasps and grips his throat. A few rebels take him away, and the raven-haired woman stands with a reckless fury. She pulls loose her quarterstaff and bludgeons the cornered loyalist, who falls motionless. Left in the dirt. Abandoned.

I feel a hand press against my arm and see Bex anchoring herself to me. She remains focused and doesn't flinch from the brutality.

A man on the outskirts of the mayhem catches my eye. He's standing in disbelief, frozen on a path that leads past Alfira's camp. No one has spotted him yet, and he begins to run. A loyalist.

My feet move before my mind has had time to decide. I break out into a sprint, tailing him down the path before tackling him. He screams trying to crawl out from under me, turning and reaching for my face. "You're lucky I'm not in my bear form!"

I pin his hands to the dirt. "Ah, the bear fucker who guarded the gate."

He tries to kick but can't move under my weight. "Filthy hell spawn!"

"I am filthy."

He spits in my face.

My fist cracks into his head. His nose breaks in the first strike, his skull fractures the next. His face collapses under my assault. I relent only when he becomes unrecognizable.

I climb to my feet and wipe my sleeve across my nose, feeling the cooling blood trickling down my face. I take him by the ankle and drag him back up the path.

I lay him out in front of the surviving captives.

Emila slides next to me, eyes tracking the man's face. "What happened?"

"...He was trying to tear me apart." I say quietly. I let a moment of silence pass. "Who was he?"

"Maggran. Stubborn man. Arrogant... Misguided."

We stand vigil over the body, giving him a solemn moment.

My voice grows soft. "We can forgive him, can't we?"

Emila shifts her focus to me, her gaze is steady and she settles back. "Of course, Vash. Of course."

My body straightens. My face doing nothing to hide the guilt.

She places a hand on my back. Her grey eyes peeling back a layer of what I am. "I'll be outside the chamber when you're ready."

She pulls her hand back and with a hush, makes her way to the door.

I return to Bex's side as the screams and mayhem begin to settle around us.

The wounded and the dead mingle with the surviving rebels.

She closes her eyes, listening to the silence of the inner sanctum. The incessant chanting is ended. It must have saturated her dreams. Saturated her heart.

What is left is the grateful voices and quiet sobs of a circle born anew.

The chill of the Druid's Chamber cuts cleanly after the heat of the coup behind us.

It feels like stepping into another world.

But it's too quiet.

We enter the main chamber. The stone table sits empty; there is no one to be seen.

Shouts rise from the library, past the infirmary.

I go, following the sound of the commotion. Astarion and Bex keep pace and Emila follows, swiftly.

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 pull my greatsword, readying myself for what may come.

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

Kagha's scimitars hang low in her grip, her face pinched with fury, and desperation.

"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.

Her eyes snap to me. "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. It is not our way!"

Aelar steps forward. "The old ways are dying, but sealing ourselves away was never going to be the answer."

"It is the only answer."

"You cannot believe that. You speak of outsiders with such malice, and yet you welcome Shadow Druids into the Emerald Grove."

"They are not outsiders. They know Silvanus's will in truth. 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, sniffing around my boot. The faintest trace of the Weave ripples around it.

My heel cracks down. 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 auburn leaves.

"The rats!"

Astarion catches movement on the ground. "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, keeping her at bay.

Bex drops, snatching the tail on another rat. She twists its head between her fists 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 woman's voice stays my hand. "I... I'm Olodon."

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

Astarion presses the dagger against her skin and Olodon breathes in sharply.

Kagha freezes, and Rath moves in. He seizes her quaking arms, wrenching the scimitars from her grasp.

I pull a length of rope from my pocket and toss it to him.

His brow pinched, eyes focused. He binds her wrists.

The umber haired druid charges Aelar, taking a belligerent swing with his shillelagh.

He misses.

Aelar brings the golden axe down across the back of his head. The man drops without a sound.

My pinned Shadow Druid is all but gripping my blade. I feel a beat of silence within myself and drive my sword through his throat.

There is a flash of light behind me. From the corner of my eye, I see Bex push the woman she caught into the arms of one of the wardens. She aims her bow toward me, taking a shot that hits me deep in the shoulder. In the same moment I feel a crack against the back of my head, and I double over.

Adrenalin fills me as I swiftly turn to see another druid, shillelagh already swinging down on me once again. I catch it, rip it from his hands, and batter him across the face. He falls to the ground, blood smeared and teeth falling from his mouth.

Rath stammers. "Markoryl!”

Kagha tries to climb to her feet but in a wild fury I slam the club across her back with such force that it snaps in half. She drops to the ground, failing to catch her breath.

The graduating rage within me is starting to become overwhelming and my eyes snap to Bex.

She's paralyzed, her eyes filled with dread.

My words press through a stiff jaw. "Bex."

She jumps, startled by my tone. She doesn't move.

I throw the broken club to the ground. "Come here."

She dashes to me, reaching out a hand. "Vash, I… I didn't mean to hit you. I thought I had a clear shot. I'm..."

She tries to free the arrow, but I snatch her wrist and she winces.

"Leave it."

Markoryl is on the ground. He stirs, wiping blood from his face.

I weave my fingers through his hair and drag him to his knees in front of Bex.

"A clear shot."

He grunts, unsteady on his knees as he looks at Bex through swelling eyelids.

"Vash, this is..."

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

Emila slides forward. "Don't force her hand."

"I'm asking her what she wants to do." I snap.

Her breath is heavy as she looks into my eyes. I give her nothing more than my patience.

She fixates on the arrow in my shoulder, as blood seeps through my tunic. Her mouth opens and closes, before she settles on Markoryl.

Her face fall flat.

She pulls her dagger.

She drives it into his throat.

There was no hesitation once the decision was made.

"Pull the blade, Bex, don't make him suffer more than he has to."

She sustains a cruel pause, then pulls it free. Blood fills the air with the scent of death.

I release him and he hits the ground.

I finally wrap my hand around the arrow shaft and test the give. The edges of the arrowhead are wedged but leaving it will only make it worse. With a held breath I rip it from my shoulder, letting out a stiff exhale, dropping the arrow. It clacks and rattles against the stone floor. I take a moment to catch my breath.

She doesn't look at me as I step next to her. I gently place a hand on her back. "Not now." She snaps.

My muscles flinch as I pull away.

Rath has his hand over his heart as he watches Markoryl die.

I move toward him. "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 a world you understood. A world where you were happy to let my people die."

His face twisted into something I can barely believe is remorse. "I didn't mean to put anyone in danger. I... wasn't thinking."

"An interesting blunder to make."

I turn toward the door, counting the captives. "Bring them."

Rath and Emila pull Kagha up by the elbows. Astarion still has a firm hold on Olodon and the Wardens have seized the final Shadow Druid.

Bex follows behind me, arms folded across her chest.

Before leaving the druid’s chamber, I stop her.

"Bex." I say gently, stooping to her level. "It would be best if you stand aside for what is to come. This victory belongs to the druids. We cannot give them the impression the refugees were involved in the insurrection. My being tiefling is bad enough."

"I’m more than happy to do so …I need time.”

“I understand.”

She pauses and searches my face once again. "You can be so cold, sometimes."

She walks past me through the door and disappears into the crowd.

The faces that surround me are focused with restless anticipation. I briefly look for Bex, my shoulders shift uncomfortably as I make my way through the bodies. They part for me slightly, mercifully, as I pass to where the prisoners are knelt.

Rath stands behind Kagha looking sickened as he scans the sea of faces in front of him.

I nod toward Astarion, who pushes Olodon toward Aelar.

He catches her and pushes her to her knees in front of him.

The voices of the crowd fall.

He places his boot on Olodon's back and she pitches forward with a grunt, legs splayed awkwardly. "Careful!" She snaps with a naive indignity.

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 day; my focus is singular.

Olodon begins to struggle beneath him. "No! What are you doing!?"

"By His will. By my hand."

The sound is a hush of metal and flesh. Her head rolls forward and the druids step back, as it settles at their feet.

A man in the crowd falls to his knees and retches into the grass. A murmur rises before Kagha's wailing rattles the air. She collapses beside Rath, breathless with grief.

After a moment, I hear a faint voice among the shifting bodies. "Wh-When will Halsin be back?"

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

He steps forward, hesitant and shuffling.

"What is your name?"

His stare is downcast as he approaches. "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. My hand rests gently on his shoulder. "Halsin is alive and well, but he has chosen to remain in the goblin camp. I cannot say when he will return."

Derrok hangs his head and nods.

"I offer to serve as guardian until he does."

He is quiet, finally meeting my eye. The tension in his shoulder seems to uncoil. "I... I cannot feel safe in the grove if we are left to fend for ourselves."

I give his shoulder a squeeze. "Go and be at peace."

The man reluctantly returns to the crowd.

I take Aelar's place, pushing Olodon's body aside. The last Shadow Druid is knelt before me. I pin her to the ground with my boot. Positioning her for Aelar.

He raises the axe with conviction, swiftly bringing it down before another word is spoken. I see his chin curl as he barely contains his fury.

"Well executed." I mutter to him. He looks at me sharply. I clear my throat. "Apologies." I quickly turn to the nearest prisoner. One of the chanters.

I kneel next to her. She is trembling beneath her hood, and I hear quiet sobs.

"I offer you mercy. You only need to take my guiding hand back to the path of peace."

She nods vigorously, and I hear a quivering voice, muffled, but sincere. "P-Please... mercy."

I gently untie her. Her body is still, but her hands tremble violently as she brings them to her front. I pull the hood off to see cheeks drenched in tears.

I take her hands in mine. "Breathe with me."

She looks at me, her chin still quivering. We breathe. I give her a nod and we stand. Her footing steadies and I return her to the circle. She is welcomed back with loving arms.

"Gretta. Finally." A woman touches her cheek and embraces her. "Thank Silvanus."

Gretta's soft sobs return, burying her face in the woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

The woman cradles her in her arms and looks toward me. "Peace Bringer."

A few whispers course through the druids. Hembry's voice cuts through them all. "Peace Bringer!"

More druids echo their sentiment. "Peace Bringer."

I move to the next druid, an older man. I speak patiently. "Will you allow me to guide you?"

He is quiet, before choosing obstinance. "I could never follow a man like you."

My head bows with respect and there is a panicked breath from the crowd.

"Karrik."

"Karrik, no! You don't understand!"

I look toward them with solemnity. "I could never disrespect the wishes of a principled man." I rise and place my boot on his back.

Silence, as Aelar watches me, waiting. I give the nod and the older man swiftly cries. "Wait!"

The axe cleaves and he goes limp beneath me.

An elder woman lets out a wail and collapses in grief.

Hands rush to comfort her.

"He knew. He knew, Elwyn."

"It is the will of Silvanus."

The woman clings to the arm of one of her fellow druids and has lost her breath for wailing.

Of the three remaining loyalists only one more choose to save themselves.

An elder woman steps up to me, gently pulling back my cloak and placing her hand over my shoulder wound. With a pulse of blue light, the wound begins to knit. The healing spell is meager, but enough. "Thank you." I say softly.

I finally turn to Kagha. She is lying on her side, sobbing. I retrieve Olodon's head before kneeling in front of her, voice quiet and measured. "Kagha." I pull the bindings off her wrists then bring her to stand. Her knees are weak and she can barely support her own weight.

"Take Olodon's head to Cloakwood. Find your circle. Let them see the fate of those who stand against me." I press the head into Kagha's hands. She shudders with a haunted gasp and tries to drop it, but I grip her wrists before she has a chance.

"Look at her, Kagha." My grip tightens until her skin turns white. "Do not hide from the consequences of your poor leadership. Observe and learn."

Her eyes are locked on the cold mask of Olodon, her face wet from tears.

I put a hand on her shoulder. "May Silvanus guide you on your journey."

I finally let go of her and turn to Aelar. "It's time."

He seizes her. The crowd follows us as he drags her through the ivy gate and casts her out.

Kagha staggers into the road, with nothing more than hope and a severed head.

Aelar tosses a rucksack onto the road, and she stares down at it, silent and still.

Emila, Aelar, and Rath stand beside me, with the entire druid's circle behind us. All eyes on her.

"An apt fate, to face the very dangers you tried to force upon the innocent. May this be a new dawning for the Emerald Grove. Peace will prevail.

By blessing, or else by blood."