The Spellgrove

"Should we really be here?" asks Liora doubtful.
"This is the shortest path. We should be fine..." replies Thalindra with newfound hope. Finally, she can get her hands on the Star Tear and deal with it.
"Well, I think we're lost!" she replies, as she pokes around with a wooden stick.
"We're not lost."

Liora keeps poking until she wakes up a weedman. The little figure stands up from slumber, his red eyes glowing in the darkness of the Spellgrove.

"Ah. He looks like Old Jason!" cheers Liora. "A little one though…"
She pokes him playfully.
"Liora. Stop."

But it is too late. The weed man eyes turn light purple, glowing with mystical fire. Angry mystical fire.

"What's with the prickly attitude? Let's not beat around the bush, you've got me furious! No mercy for any of you!"

The weedman hand appears from under his leaves foliage. He raises it up, as if he was casting some spell. Nothing happens.
"Hmm... what does it mean?" Liora tilts her head, naively curious.
"We need to get out of here!"
Carnivorous flowers raise up from the ground, surrounding them.
"Don't worry! I got this!" Liora starts dancing, laughing playfully. "Al Ka Rath Beth!"

Her fire starts burning every flower around her. She doesn't notice some of the vines sneaking up to them, orchestrated by the weedman.
But Thalindra won't have any of this nonsense. She takes Liora but the waist and carries her out of there.

"Hey! Let me go!", Liora protests, little fists bouncing against Thalindra's gown.

The weedman is chasing them, agitating his roots toward the trespassers. Old treants wake up and run at his signal, their roots moving them fast, weird black spots on their trunks looking like mocking eyes and smiles.

"Never mind! Keep running!", she says laughing heartily.

Thalindra sighs, before casting ice at their roots, thus slowing the treants down. Slightly.
'Why did I think this girl would be a good help?' she curses to herself.

*****

We arrive at a waterfall clearing. The air is fresh around the pond, and trickling streams reflect light, enchanting the place. Liora lets go and takes a huge splash into the pond, shouting out playfully.

I sigh at her youthful exuberance. My body can not keep up with this girl shenanigans.

Now we have escaped, time to scold her.

“You should be more careful. We risked our lives out there.”

She dismisses my warning with a little “Aye!”, as water fairies start dancing and splashing around her.

“Is this all a game to you? We hunt a treasure then we can go home and have some pancakes?”

“…”

She stares at me, looking confused… I think?

“Of course, I know it’s dangerous.”

Her tone is dead serious. Then, why?

“I won’t live without having a little fun.”

She glances at the waterfall, like it might offer her something.

“Fun is all I have now.”

“What do you mean?”, I ask. Something in her words makes me anxious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”, she pouts, “Especially with cranky old you.”

I don’t know why. These words hurt.

I swiftly slap away a teasing water fairy off my face.

“Well, I’ll prove to you I can be fun.”, I state, resolved to uncover the truth.

Her unhappy face relaxes, just a little bit.

“Then, I’ll prove to you I can be responsible.” she mumbles under the water, bubbles forming around her mouth.

Soon, even more water fairies come to play with us, and Liora spends a good time. I don’t.

*****

As Liora continues to frolic in the pond, Thalindra keeps her distance, her eyes scanning the surroundings, still wary. The water fairies grow more animated, their playful splashes causing ripples in the air.

A gentle breeze rises, stirring the leaves around them.

The Treants, lingering in the distance, seem to have shifted position, as if watching them. Their mocking eyes on their trunks glisten with strange awareness, and their branches twitch restlessly.

A cloud passes overhead, and the clearing grows darker. Liora laughs, still absorbed in the fairies’ company, but Thalindra’s gaze sharpens, instinctively stepping closer to the trees.

In the distance, a Dryad stirs—its graceful form blending into the foliage, its flowered branches swaying. Yet, there’s something eerie about how the thorns twitch awkwardly beneath the blossoms, a disturbing contrast with their elegance.

It seems innocent enough, but Thalindra knows better. She instinctively tightens around her staff.

Suddenly, the air grows colder, and the water’s surface ripples unnaturally, moving in ways that don’t match the fairies' dance. Thalindra tenses, her mind racing through the possibilities. The forest is watching, and something unnatural is approaching.

Even Liora can’t ignore the shift now. She quickly dries herself as the fairies, their playful nature gone, flee with fearful glances. A voice, soft but distinct, suddenly speaks from behind them.

"You shouldn’t linger here, little ones..."

*****

I’ve barely dried myself when I hurry to step closer, Thalindra at my side.

“A human? I’ve never seen one, before!”

My heart races with excitement. Now, that is something. I need to get closer, but I shouldn’t scare her.

Yes, take light steps. Be gentle. Don’t scare the human away…

“Eek!”

A cold but firm hand stops me in my tracks.

“Thalindra? It’s only a human! Look! I’ve never seen one!”, I protest, but she keeps tugging at my arm.

I glance at the human. She’s graceful, tall—almost as tall as Thalindra, though the cranky lady’s always hunched over, with that scowl. This one looks taller, standing straight, a sharp contrast to Thalindra’s usual “geezer” vibe. She’s dressed in flowing white and red, carrying a fawn in her arms. A small squirrel dances around her feet, playful and carefree.

“Look, even the forest likes her!” I grin, pointing to the creatures surrounding her.

But Thalindra doesn’t let me go. Rather, she snaps at me.

“Are you blind, you little fool!?”

I study the human again, a bit more carefully. She’s not threatening at all. In fact, she’s kind and peaceful, her smile warm. The animals gather around her, and… there’s even a weedman?

“Uh-oh.” I mutter, a wave of unease creeping over me.

“It’s them, my lady! It’s the trespassers!” the weedman growls, pointing towards us, his tiny frame trembling with excitement.

The woman’s gentle expression falters, replaced with a solemn air. Her eyes narrow, and she slowly lowers the fawn to the ground, her hand still resting protectively over it.
“You shouldn't be here,” she says softly, yet there’s a commanding weight behind her voice. “This is the Spellgrove... it doesn’t welcome just anyone.”

Before we can respond, the ground beneath us begins to hum, the treants around us shift slightly as if they, too, are listening. Something ancient stirs.

Her companions—those strange creatures, the squirrel, the fawn, and the now-agitated weedman—step closer, forming a protective circle around her. Their expressions shift from friendly curiosity to something more guarded.

“My name is Althea, the Forest Oracle.” she announces, her voice like a whisper carried on the wind.

“Trespassers, I won't take your life. I'll smack you around, make you cry, and let everyone laugh themselves sick at your expense... but I'll let you off with that.”

“Fine”, Thalindra growls.

“W-wait! We’re here for a good reason!”

I don’t want to be made fun of.

I’m the one who brings fun!