“You sure about bringin’ that thing with us?” Davin asked Leon apprehensively as they moved through the forest with the werewolf in tow. Restrained though it was by Valeria, Leon couldn’t blame anyone for being nervous about it—if the werewolf got loose and managed to bite any of them, the possibility of being infected was high.

    Leon glanced back at the creature, a frown lightly etched upon his face. “He’s contained. He’ll not survive this, but it costs us little to give him a bit of peace and dignity.”

    “If you say so...” Davin murmured. “I’ll be keepin’ an eye on him anyway...”

    “I’d rather you kept an eye on the path ahead, not on our newest package. My people will keep an eye on him.”

    Davin frowned much more deeply than Leon but did as he was bid and turned back to focus on the last leg of their journey.

    The fog continued to intensify as they advanced through the Redspark Forest, and red lightning fell in much greater quantities. The trees, so tall that they vanished into the fog above until they were struck by lightning, drank in this lightning magic greedily, leaving Leon’s party untouched by the otherwise violent magic.

    The forest, aside from the sound of wind blowing through the trees and the rather muted booming of thunder despite more intense lightning, grew more and more silent as they drew closer to their destination. The birds and beasts appeared unwilling to come this close to the Stormborn Oak—or at least, were quieter when in its presence. Leon, at least, was unable to sense any creatures around them, though the fog interfered more and more with his magic senses even with his origin power in use. The Stormborn Oak itself was so thickly enshrouded in fog that he couldn’t see bark or leaf of the thing even from a distance of only a few miles.

    His anticipation grew in proportion with the glow coming off the tree. It acted as a bright beacon to his party, shining through the fog, telling them where to go even with the trees in the way. He could sense a tremendous amount of magic, and as they drew ever closer, he could feel static rippling across his skin. Though it wasn’t all that he could sense from it, he could already tell that the Stormborn Oak lived up to its name when it came to the magical element of lightning.

    “We’re close,” Davin whispered, the relative silence of the forest seeming to affect him, too. “The tree’s in the middle of a big clearing. Camp is best made at the edge.”

    “Is there no fear of monsters in the area?” Leon asked, thinking that further into the clearing would be better.

    “Near all are shit-scared to get close to the Stormborn Oak,” Davin explained. “The edge’ll be fine.”

    Leon looked around at their surroundings, then at Anna. When she nodded, he knew that she was seeing the same thing he was: practically virgin forest, seemingly untouched by man or beast. While he was skeptical of Davin’s claim that nothing came close to the Stormborn Oak, by all visual evidence, it seemed he was right.

    They continued for a few minutes more, moving at a speed that no mortal could sustain in dense forest, yet for them was quite relaxed. The underbrush started thinning, indicating that they were in the final stretch, drawing close to the Oak’s clearing.

    And then Davin halted, a curious look on his face. Leon followed his gaze, noting what appeared to be a petrified tree, almost identical to the others around yet seemingly made of stone. Upon its trunk had been inscribed thousands of modern runes, while in the center of the dense, winding enchantment was an ancient rune.

    ‘King’, the rune read. Leon’s lips turned downward, the rune acting as an unpleasant reminder of the Wailing Dirge. The rune was slightly different from what had been carved on that creature’s forehead, but they were still related, and thus incredibly similar.

    “This is new...” Davin murmured.

    “New?” Leon asked. “Did someone build this?”

    “No one’s supposed to build around the Stormborn Oak,” Davin stated. “It’s meant to be wild. Thousands of years, ain’t nobody put somethin’ like this up, ever.”

    “What’s it supposed to do?” Alix wondered aloud.

    Leon, Valeria, and Gaius, as the three with the most experience dealing with enchantments—though the latter two would never claim any great expertise in the art—stepped forward to examine it.

    “Lots of lightning runes,” Valeria noted.

    “It’s channeling that power somewhere,” Gaius said.

    “Not just channeling it, it’s summoning lightning,” Leon said. “Containing and channeling that power toward the Oak.”

    “No wonder this thing’s stone,” Davin muttered. “These here trees need the lightning to live. If they ain’t getting’ it, they petrify.”

    “Who did this?” Valeria asked. “And why?”

    “I ain’t got a clue,” Davin responded. A dark look crossed his face. “If anythin’s happened to the Oak...” He started moving again, not waiting for Leon to push them onward. Judging from his aura, Leon doubted the man was planning anything remotely peaceful if he found who’d carved these enchantments into the tree.

    Quietly, Leon followed Davin, arming himself with Iron Pride in the process. As soon as it entered his hand, it seemed to react to the magic spilling off the Oak ahead of them, almost vibrating in Leon’s hand with what he interpreted as excitement.

    Finally, he stepped out into the clearing, the rest of the party save for Davin right behind him. The Tempest Knights spread out around him, looking ready for trouble. Leon was tempted to tell them to relax, but a bolt of red lightning suddenly struck him, and in his surprise, he almost let loose with a blast of lightning of his own as a defensive instinct. R?

    As red lightning surged over and through him, Leon sharply inhaled, power filling his every cell. He felt giddy, the weight of the situation facing him and Artorion lifting as red lightning arced over his body. The Jaguar’s red lightning was deadly, but this lightning, slightly brighter than the Jaguar’s, didn’t so much as singe his thinnest hairs. His body drank in the power as greedily as the trees behind him, leading to a sense of euphoria that spiked hard, but almost immediately after, began to dissipate.

    Leon’s face was almost pained as his lips turned upward into an uncontrolled smile, and it was all he could do to stop himself from breaking out into laughter. The rest of his party, however, darted back, looks of shock and horror all around.

    “That must be him,” Davin said angrily. “The dog-hearted monkey who enchanted that tree.” Without another word, Davin began marching toward this man with fury in his eyes.

    Leon hurried after him, as did the rest of the party.

    “Wait,” he said as he grabbed Davin’s hand. “We don’t know who this is, and he’s stronger than I am. Be careful.”

    Davin scowled but didn’t argue, and Leon took the lead as his party walked toward the pavilion. The man didn’t move, waiting patiently for them to arrive. His smile didn’t waver even as Leon’s Tempest Knights spread out and surrounded the pavilion, nor did it flicker even when his eyes passed over the remaining giant among the knights.

    “Salutations!” the man exclaimed, his voice deep and booming, his accent light and rather old-fashioned to Leon’s ears. “Long has it been since I have been graced with company! Please, come and join me! Have you come to admire the beauty of the Stormborn Oak as well?”

    Leon, nonplussed by this man’s welcoming and friendly demeanor, hesitated a moment. When the man continued to exude nothing but positivity and friendliness, he decided to pull Iron Pride back into his soul realm and step onto the pavilion.

    The pavilion was made entirely of stone and was completely nonmagical as far as he could tell, and as his boot made contact with the stone, he was able to verify that it was completely mundane.

    “Yes,” Leon said. “In part, anyway. This tree is worth admiring, isn’t it?”

    “Certainly,” the man said as he cast an appreciative glance back at the tree. “I have been here for more than a month now, trying to make sense of just how this miracle came to be, and if it can be replicated. Alas, no insights have I stumbled upon, though many of the tree''s properties I have gleaned...”

    Before Leon could ask for more information, Davin stepped onto the pavilion and angrily demanded, “Are you the one who put up that enchantment back yonder? The one that killed that tree and is channelin’ the lightning this way?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the petrified tree they’d passed near the edge of the clearing.

    The man looked a little confused for a moment before pleasantly and a little apologetically admitting, “Yes, that was me. I was hoping that in increasing the power flowing to this wonder I could learn more of how it worked.”

    “You killed the other tree!” Davin cried. “And all this stone! There ain’t supposed to be anything like that around here! This is a natural sanctuary! Fix this!”

    “Ah, uh, apologies,” the man said, though he didn’t leap to fulfill Davin’s demands. “Might I inquire as to what name your parents bestowed upon you?”

    “Davin.”

    “Davin. I greet you with warmth and sincerity. Please do not mistake my intentions; I am not here to develop this land or to destroy anything, I am only here to study this miracle. I will, of course, remove all traces of my presence upon my departure from this remarkable place.”

    “You fuckin’ better,” Davin grumbled, though Leon was grateful to see that that seemed to be the end of it.

    Addressing this man, Leon asked, “Might I ask what your name is?”

    The man smiled and extended a hand in greeting to Leon. “Unfortunately, I cannot bear the name given to me by my parents any longer. The name I have chosen for myself in its absence is Sasan.”

    Leon nodded as he extended his arm and clasped Sasan’s forearm. “I am Leon of House Raime. Well met.”

    “You come with unusual company, Leon of House Raime,” Sasan observed, his eyes momentarily flickering toward the giant before settling on the werewolf. “Not many are brave enough to travel with such cursed beings, even restrained though this one is. And with a foot in Death’s Kingdom, to boot.”

    “We chanced upon him,” Leon explained. “Apparently, his party was hoping to find a cure for his condition here, though how and why, I’m unsure. We found the remains of his party’s camp, though of the rest of his companions, we found nothing, not even a drop of blood on the ground. This one, however, we found not too far south of here, pleading for help and trying to crawl to the tree.”

    “Interesting,” Sasan said in appreciation, seeming to appraise Leon differently. “Compassion is a rare trait these days. I applaud you for it. Unfortunately for our furred friend, however, no such cure exists in relation to this tree.”

    The werewolf had been silent thus far, but barely conscious as far as Leon could tell. As those words passed Sasan’s lips, however, all hope and light seemed to fade from his eyes, and they closed.

    When Sasan spoke again, though, the werewolf’s eyes sprang open.

    “I might be able to give him the help he seeks...”

    Sasan strode toward the restrained werewolf and extended a hand, uncaring that he was so close to a monster with a contagious curse. He laid his hand upon the monster’s forehead, and with a quick burst of power so potent that Leon almost went weak in the knees for a second, a complex series of runes were carved into the werewolf’s flesh.

    The werewolf howled in pain, but as Sasan’s power filled the runes, causing them to glow with arcane light, the werewolf’s flesh grotesquely rippled and twisted.

    And then, before Leon’s eyes, the werewolf’s fur fell out, his bones warped, and in only half a minute, the werewolf was restored to human form, no trace of the curse remaining upon his flesh.

    Staring in amazement, Leon couldn’t help but silently ask, ‘What kind of power is this?! How is this even possible?!’