(Arya's POV)
Ezra and I made short work of reaching the energy sources we sensed near the seal of Malakar. But as we approached, I noticed something familiar—a faint, sweet smell in the air. A smell that could only mean one thing: an airborne poison produced by a specific man-eating astral plant that grew in the outskirts of the grove. It's a poison that attacks the nervous system, causing paralysis and hallucinations that leads to death. The closer we got, the more potent it became. I was trained to produce the antidote, so I wasn't too worried for myself—but many others wouldn't have that luxury. There was a good chance the entire militia had been exposed without ever realizing it.
"Ezra!" I shouted, the wind whipping harshly across my face as he picked up speed.
"What's up, Arya? I think we're almost there."
"Slow down! If you get any closer, you might succumb to the poison!" I pointed down toward the colorless haze spreading across the treetops, slowly sinking toward the surface, that I could feel through my special connection to the grove.
Ezra halted in mid-air and placed me gently atop one of the towering world trees that dotted this region of the astral realm.
I quickly explained the situation, warning him to stay above the haze. While faint now, the poison's density could increase with the shift in wind or cosmic pressure.
"But how are you going to be fine down there? I don't need you sacrificing yourself to atone for the past," Ezra said, crossing his arms.
"I've been microdosing this poison since I was a child. My mother made sure of it. It was part of my training."
"Damn, your mother really was cruel."
"Like your family wasn't?" I replied with a chuckle, watching as Ezra's eyes shifted from their deep brown hue to the brilliant color of the sun. "What do you see?"
"I see a large group of heat signatures to the left. Their cosmic energy is in distress—most likely poisoned members of our militia. I also see several heat signatures from bodies lying on the ground whose temperatures are dropping fast. Most likely dead combatants. Further east, I see nine signatures. One is losing heat fast—probably dying. Seven others are circling a single remaining combatant." Ezra informed me as his face started to crinkle in response to the words coming out of his mouth.
"What is it, Ezra? Do you recognize the signature?"
"Yes. It's Cyrus. He's losing cosmic energy at an accelerated rate. Hurry—please. One of them is a stage higher than him."
"I got it. Just stay up here, please. We can't risk you getting poisoned."
I commanded one of the tree branches to launch me through the forest. Hurtling hundreds of meters in seconds I arrived on the surface of the astral rainforest. As I approached the scene, I saw what Ezra had seen with his infrared vision—but the reality was more gruesome than what he described.
Discolored bodies lay limp and scattered across the forest path, their nervous systems clearly compromised. Blood stained the mossy ground, and eerie silence choked the air. I wanted to help the fallen members of our task force to the west, but I knew I was already too late. They were already at the point where I wasn't able to do any good for them especially since I didn't come prepared with an antidote.
I made the call to head east, sprinting toward the remaining base of the Hollow Branch and the fight Ezra had described. I expected to see a helpless boy being overwhelmed. Instead, I found a young warrior still standing.
Cyrus was battered and broken. A hole gaped through his thigh, and several fingers were missing from his off-hand. His chest heaved with labored breath. Yet despite the damage, he stood firm—defiant. Around him lay four bodies, cleanly severed in half. Several arms scattered the ground, bearing his skin tone. I didn't know whether to feel slightly scared or sad for the child.
"Lady Arya, is that you?" he asked without turning his head.
"Yes, it's me Cyrus. You can fall back now—I'll handle the rest, alright hun?"
"Yeah, that sounds great, honestly. But here's the thing... I can't really feel my legs right now, so I'm gonna just stay here if that's okay. But I can make an opening for you. When I say go, please end it quick. The one in the middle—he's been a pain in my ass this whole time. I would have finished this a lot sooner if it wasn't for him." Cyrus said to me chuckling.
He turned to face me, and I saw that both of his eyes had been slashed. I nearly gasped, but I held it in.
Almost as if he sensed my reaction, he added, "Yeah, they got me good. I can't lie. Now—go!"
In that instant, the remaining cult members collapsed, immobilized. I commanded the roots to rise and snatch them from the ground. It took an increased output of cosmic energy, but the vines obeyed against whatever the force Cyrus enacted. I then conjured a spear formed from nearby vines; its tip lined with barbed thorns. With a single gesture, I impaled the remaining cultists, their lifeless bodies hanging like ornaments in the trees.
"Do you have any cores, Lady Arya? I could really use some" Cyrus rasped before collapsing.
Seeing this display of courage and will power from this young child impressed me but also saddened me a great deal. The child of my former lover showed excellent promise and lived up to his father's praise. But he is still just a mere child at the end of the day. There is no reason he should have to be subject to this, and I understood his father's motives to the full extent now.
I rushed to his side and offered him a core from my dimensional storage. He was barely conscious but coherent enough to follow instructions. As he absorbed the core, then something pulsed along his shoulder. I watched in awe as scales spread across his thigh, regenerating torn tissue, reconnecting nerves, and sealing the wound with fresh skin.
"Thank you, Lady Arya. I think I can stand now. Do you have another?"
"I'm sorry, this was my last one. I have more back in the grove's compound."
"Ok... Also, where's my dad?"
"He's watching from above. I told him to stay back—he'd be poisoned if he got any closer."
"Gotcha. That poison hit everyone hard. I barely sensed it in time, but for the others... it was too late."
"You did more than fine, hun. But how did you resist it?"
"You see these scales? That's an astral relic I got from defeating a Category Two rift. Nearly died getting it. But it's saved me more times than I can count—it heals injuries and gives me resistance to impurities, though it drains my cosmic energy like crazy."
I was stunned. Even in this condition, the boy had poise and composure and enough moxie to joke.
"Oh, and before we leave... could you do one last thing for me?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"This might sound weird... but could you grab my severed arms over there? I need my dad to destroy them."
I paused, thrown off by the request. "Sure, but... why?"
"I ran into Malakar's essence in the forest. It reacted strongly to me. I know you fixed his seal again, but I don't want any part of me left for that man to use to aid in regaining former strength. I'd hate to be the reason the entire clan and your people get wiped out."
I nodded solemnly and obeyed. Then, with a command, I had a branch carry both of us back into the treetops—to Ezra.