[Art of Tanila by MistressOfEvil]

“Do not think that because you did not die in glory, that you are not valued. You have endured things that most of our people could not fathom. That sacrifice, although unwilling, meant another did not have to suffer in your place. That means something.” - Avius Csarathaire

The words of steel stuck to the back of Tanila's mind from the moment she heard them, and would do to the end of her days. Despite her fatal condition and all that she endured, she was, in a way, thankful for her own suffering. For, if not she, then another would have undoubtedly suffered the torment in her place. Tanila reflected then, on all that was done. And all, indeed, that yet had to be done before her days came to an end. She remembered. The childhood memories. All the life lessons that learned, all of the friendships and links forged. She remembered. Never would she forget.

[Corrupted Fae ref,  Artist Unknown]

Forget…

To scour the pain from memory was all Tanila could ask for now. To forget the sight of that grotesque creature that dwarfed her in size, looming high above. To be rid of the memory of its titanic limb, pinning her to the earth. Unable to move, barely able to breathe… The hunters had quit the village in search of a creature to hunt. Predators searching out prey. What they found instead would haunt them in this world and the one beyond. The forest floor, once lush with verdant life, now awash with rot, festering blood and animal corpses in the hundreds. It wasn’t long until the party noticed movement. A massive shadow lurking in the darker corners of the forest, skulking between the trees with tremendous weight. A goat’s haunch and cloven feet, the face of a lion and three sets of legs, each scaled as tree trunks. A twisted creature of nightmare from the otherworld.

The predators clashed with this Fae interloper. Spears thrust into its leathery hide. Volleys of archery needled its form. Tanila herself fought bravely alongside her husband and beside her kin. All was well. A moment later, it was not. The fortunes of combat tilted towards catastrophe. Tanila took a blow, blunt, forceful. The next moment she was falling. The next, she lay pinned to the soiled earth below. Whilst struggling to free herself, she heard sounds that her mind instinctively pinned as horrifying. Disgusting. The next moment, she realised that the instrument of this cacophony were her own bones, cracking and breaking under the blight fae creature’s bulk. Tanila’s screams, macabre and periodically interrupted by the eruption of blood from her throat, echoed through the trunks and the leaves. All efforts were in vain. In that moment, Tanila’s own frailty, her mortality, became all too clear. She was utterly at this thing’s mercy. And mercy it possessed no longer.

The slim thread of consciousness faded, battle cries of companions and comrades grew distant. She prayed in those agonising, flickering moments. For herself, but also for the lives of those fighting her tormentor Matters surely could hardly get worse. But, the world proved its malicious sense of humour that day. When she looked up again, the light of her consciousness snapping on briefly, a malignant metamorphosis began to take place. The abomination of fae-make changed and twisted, its body deforming and reforming unnaturally. A bastardisation of the Aspects’ realm became a further corruption of the mortal one. A Pale Tree, anathema to life.

Bark of a sickly pale, faded to the color of bone. Tanila followed it, herself deathly white as death approached. But, cruelly, the release of death refused Tanila’s embrace. Rather, all color left her form and her pallor changed to match that of the malevolent creation. Those emerald eyes of hers, eyes that Laedrad, oh Laedrad, had fallen in love with, disappeared forever, becoming crimson red and bloodshot.

[Pale-Tree ref, Artist Unknown]
 

Pain…

That was all she felt. Every bone in her body breaking, her lungs crushed as she lost the ability to breathe. Her beating heart began to slow and the Aureon began to fade. A familiar cry echoed throughout those distant battle sounds as they tried to save her. Tanila’s emerald gaze turned and sought out the source of the cry. Her sister, frantic. Panicking, and desperate to save her Tanila. Too late. Nenar fought vigorously to try and save her sister but her efforts were not successful. Instead, there was only one way Tanila could be saved and Nenar knew what she had to do. The woman had to kill her sister to end her suffering.

Blight began to fill the air around the twisted tree, poisonous spores burning the lungs of those who sought to destroy the beast and save their friend. The others turned to flee and save themselves from the toxic air, all except for Nenar and Tanila’s partner, Laedrad. Together they began to climb the tree and face the maw of the pale creature, where Tanila was trapped and entangled inside. Roots tore through her and held her in place, as if she were a part of the tree. The woman’s features were pale and her eyes, although alive and no longer her own, cried out in anguish as she was forced to suffer. Nenar sought desperately to end her baby sister’s torment. Multiple times she tried and multiple times she failed - until she, too, was struck with those same roots and pulled into the creature’s maw to suffer alongside her sister.

The group retreated to recover and revise their plan, though the agonizing screams of the entangled women rang throughout the forest and followed the group as they went. Whatever wounds the tree caused, it would only heal and force them to live when all they hoped for was relief. Their bodies were no longer their own to control. Every breath, every beating of the heart, was controlled by those branches entangled within. A Cycle they were unfamiliar with. Dying, only to be brought back and forced to live a life they could no longer control. A life Tanila no longer wanted.

Healing…

A little over a year later the two would be found. The twisted tree decided it no longer needed them and spat them out for them to be found. Something or someone found them and brought them back to their home, just outside of Nevaehlen’s walls. Nenar’s husband came across the two laying in the grass and embracing each other, just as they did in the tree for months on end. They were brought inside and treated for what wounds remained. Tanila lay there for months. Sleeping, recovering, grieving. Once she was able to leave the clinic, the woman went into hiding. Away from the world, away from the people. An attempt to escape the nightmares that constantly haunted her and lingered in the back of her mind.

Tanila awoke screaming each night now. Heart beating staccato against her chest, sweat pouring down her face. The few hours of rest her body allowed her barely resembled rest at all, warped as it was into a path back in time, back to that seemingly, at the time, endless epoch of suffering. Times of waking were hardly any better. An initial hope of recovery died swiftly, as did hope and life’s brightness. The soothing chill of the shadows was Tanila’s closest companion during that time. Weeks, months and then years of terminal decline went by. One purpose sustained her. The education of her one daughter, her heir, to whom she bestowed everything of value she knew.

Gradually, inevitably, Tanila’s body weakened. Pain. Fatigue. Sickness. She felt the failure coming, felt herself fading into the dark. Remedies and medicines aplenty were applied and consumed. Not a one even succeeded in stalling the coming inevitability. During one of those ministrations, though she remembered not which, Tanila finally realised that the death for which she had prayed finally approached. A cliff’s edge into unknown waters towards which she could not stop stumbling. Rather than serving as a final nail in the coffin of her despair, however, an air of relief came upon her instead. It was time to act in the brief window that remained. In the days that followed, Tanila ventured back into the light, spending time with family, friends, kindred and loved ones. Most of all, ensuring that her daughter would, after the end, be taken care of.

[Weeping Dryad, by Harkalé Linaï]

Sacrifice…

The Aureon knew now what her final duty would be. One last gasp of defiance against the nightmares of the world. She, with those whom she had marched out so long before, would traverse into the voidal hollow. With druidic warriors at her side, she would lay down her life, voluntarily, to heal the scarred, screaming land. The decision, despite her situation,was far from simple. Nevertheless, the deed had to be done. The greater good meant everything. Tanila was raised and tutored to understand the importance of the Balance, and the importance of keeping the taint away. Her choice was final. 

The group of warriors traveled into the hollows and stood beneath the only living tree. Surrounding the hillside and assuring nothing prevented them from completing their task. Everything felt wrong there. The air, the ground beneath her feet. Even the skies, warped by corrupting forces from beyond. And so, lacking any focusing point for rightness on the outside, Tanila looked inward. And so the Hyssop Druid, martyr of the Aspects, banisher of the void, spent her final moments saying her final farewells. Comforting her family and gazing into their eyes one last time.

The trio of Aspect stones, immortal, sacred relics brought from across the world, were taken from their guardians and, at long last, came together akin to pieces comprising a deific jigsaw. Tanila approached the single stone, imbued with the might of all three Aspects, hand in hand with her sister and her mother. She embraced this gift of the gods and then cast looked over her loved ones once more. 

 “Forgive me.” Nenar murmured, near silently. Yet, despite what was to come, Tanila held no grudge or animosity for what she asked of her sister. Precisely the reverse. Feeling true peace at last, Tanila lay herself back and stared upward, with those blighted eyes, at the tree looming over her. A glint reflected against her crimson from the crystalline leaves overhead. A faint smile crossed the woman’s lips before her eyes closed. The time had come.

A tri-blade dagger, a key, was withdrawn. The fourth piece. Nenar gripped it, hesitantly. Tanila could see the struggle in her sister’s eyes. The stroke that was to come repelled her, but both knew it had to be done. With a single, powerful and yet gentle thrust, the spiral bladed key penetrated between ribs and straight into Tanila’s heart. Lifeblood spilled from the wound. But, in truth, Tanila lived no longer. Her body seethed and pulsed, thrumming with sheer energy. A pure energy. The aura of a forest in bloom. The ferocity of a wild hunt of predators sprinting through the wilds. Then, the stones rose and split apart once more. Between them formed a new sun in the sky, a rift of verdant green. A sliver of the Gods’ power unleashed, by the Aureon’s selfless sacrifice, onto the mortal realm. From that gateway spilled creatures and bolts of raging, primal fury. Cerridwen’s wrath that her life had been perverted. Cernunnos’s unbound fury, an urge to bring death to his enemies. The Aspects’ creatures, heralded by their greatest servants flooded into the world. Under the strain of this ferocious assault from the Great Forest beyond, the voidal hollow’s malignance was utterly powerless. It simply ended, cracking and falling away like shed snakeskin. Those still living witnessed a great, cloudless storm and something more beautiful still. An old friend. A mentor long gone. A princess. A servant. Awaiti Aureon crouched there, cradling the spiritual remnant of Tanila in her arms. “Run.” she murmured, to the druii present, gentle but severe.

The dim green star lingered brightly in the skies above the fading nightmare. From within the portal broken into reality; emerged a slew of animalistic beings. A polar bear with slick white fur, a gargantuan bird akin to a drake. Even a far greater beast, a worm stretching the length of buildings, burrowing beneath the earth. Together the Mani worked alongside one another to purge the land - a crocodilian leviathan of titanic proportions joining them as waves of verdant green poured down from its wing beats, purifying the ground below.

“You did so well…” Awaiti murmured softly. With great care, she cocooned Tanila’s soul within her hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before allowing her soul to ascend into the idyllic world beyond. The soul passed through that verdant sun and out of the world of the living.

The lifegiving rainfall seemed to age the ground decades for each second it fell, rapidly forming lichen and moss. Grass and shrubbery grew in the wake of the Mani’s cleansing assault. Blighted land returned to normalcy. When their work was done, the radiant star in all its viridescent diminished and faded. It vanished, the sky returning to its clear blue normalcy. A burden was lifted from nature’s melody. The Voidal Hollow, once a tumor near the heart of the world, had vanished with wilderness. Now, only sacred wilderness remains.

From Tanila’s physical form, a towering willow grew. It reached for the rejuvenated skies, looming over the newly remade lands of lush green. This mother tree grew on the site of sacrifice, championing the chorus of nature as it once more asserted its supremacy over the land. 

When a druii dies, the land weeps for their loss. But this time, it wept not. The land sang a song of mourning, and of joy. A song of rebirth and sacrifice. It would sing forevermore.

A rippling, terrestrial shake cascades south as those renegades send the once floating Ando Alur to its demise. Panicked faces matched the fields of agonized cries that sounded from nature. What was left was desolate land, twisted and manipulated – shards of violet, and an ill blanket of air. 

Those Father Circle Drui who first scouted the blight were met by a stab to their core – a sickening silence, akin to the heel strangling nature's neck. It was as if time itself had stopped. An uncanny, surreal scene that had desecrated the hope of many.

“Be comfortable with the uncomfortable.”

They dutifully returned with the cinders trick. A torch met the ailing trees and ground and to no avail would blight be scorched. 

“Be comfortable with the uncomfortable.”

The lure of a yearning song, meager and stifled in the foreign, deafened terrain led Drui to battle against cultists, against shuul, and creatures alike. 

“Be comfortable with the uncomfortable.”

The voice grew louder and louder upon every mission, and the further those warriors ventured in the wretched lands. An unforeseen tree, a voidal tear, and diligent Drui and Acolytes who healed and fought for their duty and lives.

“Be comfortable with the-”

And after decades of trials, heavy hearts carried three stones and a tri-blade dagger. Before a multitude of eyes, an explosion pangs at those chests. A flash that blinded. A life sacrificed and color that’d amaze beyond what has been seen. 

A towering willow. One that kissed the now blue sky and canopied over green. Lush, lush, green. 

HER voice never left, instead, it joined THEIRS. 

And she said, “Be comfortable.” 

Two streams collide - a reunion of old, forested souls. 

  Some time ago my people had attempted to appropriate a druidic right  in a way that was inappropriate. This was brought to my attention, violently at first, and then by the wisdom of my younger kin who has taken to learning the ways of the Druii. 

I wholly apologize and profess the wrongness of these acts. Let me declare in no uncertain terms that this act was wrong, even if borne of ignorance.

Further, it pleases me to have shared a hope of better understanding and future of the ways of the Druii and those Elves of the Imperial realm and we look forward to wisdom, guidance, and the respect of the natural world. 

Servus,

Minuvas Melphestaus

A Document on the Expectations of Conduct for the Father Circle and Nevaehlen, Year 12 of the 2nd Age

The following are topics and their descriptions of how members of the Father Circle, as well as those villagers of the Vale, and guests are required and expected to act. All those who visit or live amongst the Vale of Nevaehlen must abide by these rules. The code is subject to change. Druidic trials by the Raitheans may enhance the punishments warranted from those listed below. 

Topics

§ 1 - On Classifications of Tenets 

          § 1.01 Shall not harm another druid unwarranted

          § 1.02 Shall not harm the balance

          § 1.03 Shall not abuse druidic gifts

§ 2 - On Classifications of Conduct

          § 2.01 Required to protect the Father Grove from any harm to the land or its members

          § 2.02 Required to protect fellow brethren of the Father Circle

          § 2.03 Required to uphold the tenets of the Father Circle

          § 2.04 Required to remove any dark mages from the Grove

          § 2.05 Required to preserve and protect the Father Tree

          § 2.06 Required to uphold the very Code of Conduct

          § 2.07 Avoid political matters on Father Circle grounds

§ 3 - On Classifications of Crime

§ 3.01 Crimes Against Nature

3.01.1 - Voidal Magic- When a person or group of magi who possesses, practices or attempts to practice the conjuring of spells and creatures within the grove are to vacate the premises or deal with punishments. 

3.01.2 - Land Destruction- When a person or group who deliberately destroys, or attempts to destroy an environment are to vacate the premises. 

3.01.3 - Animal Cruelty- When a person or group who deliberately harms, or attempts to harm an animal with malicious intent are to vacate the premises. 

3.01.4 - Disturbance of Nature- When a non-druid person or group who intentionally acts in a means to disrupt nature's peace are to vacate the premises. 

§ 3.02 - Crimes Against Members

§ 3.02.1 - Violence-  When a person or group attempts or successfully kidnaps, assaults, murders, or harrasses members of the Father Circle, a banishment and shun are warranted within the Grove.

§ 3.02.2 - Theft- When a person or group attempts or successfully steals the property of a member, a warning will be administered.

§ 3.03 - Crimes Against the Grove

3.03.1 - Disturbance of the Father Tree- When a person or group attempts, or successfully attacks, harms, or destroys the Father Tree, a banishment is warranted. 

3.03.2 - Destruction of Property- When a person or group attempts or successfully sabotages, destroys, or vandalizes property within the Grove, a banishment is warranted. 

§ 3.04 - Crimes Against the Circle

3.04.1 - Propaganda- When a person or group spreads false information about the Father Circle, whether the slander is within or outside the Grove, a banishment is warranted. 

§ 4 - On Classifications of Entry

§ 4.01 Dark Mages- Individuals who possess or practice the use of dark mages are not welcomed within the Grove; ie, Necromancy, voidal magic, demons. Any who are found within the Grove will be removed from the premises. 

§ 4.02 Unnatural Creatures- Any unnatural creature is not welcomed within the Grove; ie, Undead, voidal constructs. Exceptions can be made for Sorvians depending on their intentions. Any who are found within the Grove will be removed from the premises.

§ 4.03 Refusal to Leave- Any individual or group who refuses to leave upon order of the members of the Father Circle or Vale, a banishment will be warranted. 

§ 5 - On Classifications of Punishments

§ 5.01 Banishment- The person or group is not allowed entry within the Vale of Nevaehlen. 

§ 5.02 Shun- The person or group will not be spoken to and are not allowed within the Vale of Nevaehlen. 

**Under special cases where any of the above is brought to a druidic trial or handled by a Raithean of the Father Circle, further punishments may be dealt depending on the situation.
 

[[ Special thanks to @josey for the new Sigil art! And @Kalehart, @Delmodan and @Unwillingly for feedback! ]]