The battle was a farce. I had no time to confront all the succubi and incubi, and the druids did not stop attacking with force I considered lethal compared to what these beings would do to them. They would probably copulate with them, absorbing a little of their magic and life—nothing they could not recover. It was only their purist culture that prevented them from having a less destructive relationship. However, this type of situation made my work more difficult, so I expanded my field as much as possible. A dispel would return some of the common sense they had lost. Now I only needed one more to finish the sleep all project. They were not powerful enchantments. Apparently, the first worked—all began to look at each other—but the second did not. All were looking at each other, and perhaps this extended throughout the forest. The first howls arrived within moments.
I turned, looking for trouble. All the druids were so weak. They had no magical resistance; they were asleep and without defenses. But they would not be attacked. The so-called demons of lust did not seek sex. They were hungry. They were weak figures, famished—sagging breasts and abnormally long limbs, but in their flaccid state, they showed the incredible power of my masters' machine. Since I could not calm them, I began with those who looked hungriest. I held them and gave them a little magic mushroom serum. Those who drank tried to take more, but in their weakened state, that was fatal. I limited them to one sip. As their bodies absorbed it, they began to relax. They lay down or sat, still too shocked by what they had become. None of this could be monitored. I could only trust my distillation measurements and that they could truly assimilate everything before I ran out of potion.
When I reached the thirtieth patient, I began to realize they were all arriving slowly but continuously. In the clearing, I could no longer distinguish the numbers. There were many, and they were increasing. Fortunately, I still kept more than ten liters in store, but I could not spend it all until I achieved what I had set out to do. In a free moment, I stopped and began to speak to them.
"People, you have been wronged. What I give you is merely your new food. I cannot attend to your appetite all the time. You must travel to the Dark Elves' forest. There, all the trees are food. In that place, I will teach you to survive. I know your lust will not be quelled; the change the Blood Elves made in you is permanent. But not your future. You will be able to choose who, how, and when. I will give you food for your journey. I will try to protect you. But there, you will have to fend for yourselves. My duty ends there. The rest depends on you. The vessel I leave here is enough for everyone. Do not drink more than one sip. You cannot consume more. Your bodies are not the same as you remember. But you are still thinking beings. There, you will be treated as such. Here, only disappointment, hunger, and finally death await you."
All listened. No one expected to be human again, but becoming aware of everything they had done horrified them. Some withdrew. The bulk of the people approached the vessel with fear and took what they needed with their hands. They satisfied their appetite and desperation. They rested for the first time in who knew how long. When I turned, I saw the druids watching me.
"What do you say, brothers of the forests? Over there, we need protectors. No harm is wished upon you. They cared for you, but there are many more defenseless ones awaiting us. A force of your caliber"—once trained, I added to myself—"nature is greatly affected. This will be an incredible opportunity to bring it back to health."
They looked at me. None seemed pleased. Most had drawn their staves and some swords and shields. Greenclaw was the only one who spoke.
"Dark Lord, we know who you are. As we said, we have no interest in forming a relationship—be it friendship, alliance, or anything similar. You represent chaos and pain. But you have given these forests a chance to rid themselves of the abominations that infested them. We are not leaving. Our people are already here. With the paladins and priests gone to war since this morning, only we remain to defend the place that saw us born. We regret seeing you on our lands. If we had known you were so powerful, we would have fought you to the death. Phaladine no longer protects us, but we know you go against everything he teaches, and we would not allow you to roam these lands."
"I know you mock our habits and the slim chance of ever returning to the life we had. But remember, death comes for everyone. While you are here recruiting people, your beloved's guard loses defenses. War looms over your castle. What will you do when they release the death and devastation that freeing your beloved entails? No, knight of perdition, we will not go with you. We will defend our town and our forest to the end. Greenclaw has spoken."
Despite all the fanfare of his pathetic speech, it was evident he was right about something. My beloved was a danger. If I did not renew the magic of the runes, she could free herself. I had to return, even reluctantly. I would have liked to recruit at least one of those druids; their natural magics were extraordinarily strong for their field. So I turned and began giving instructions to the army I had recruited—one hundred and fifty men and women with high magical resistance and minimal aptitude for magic themselves. Just as I was about to retract my field, I felt it: a field so large it almost matched any city mage's... and it was a woman's.
Immediately, I left everything where it was to go in search of her. Female sorcerers had been a myth for many years, but the truth was that a great number of women had aptitude to become great archmages. They simply could not; they disappeared during some training session. Only the weakest of female mages ever graduated, so their potential was so small they were never considered for anything, thus popularizing the belief that only men were powerful in the use and handling of magic. But this one was different. Easily classifiable at the level of the Whitecap of the city where I had landed. Someone like that must be suffering. The culture, the environment—I could not let her die.
I entered the perimeter. I felt the trees as I passed, the grass, the different animals around me. None approached, except the wolf. He sensed me and began to follow, fearing I might not respect our agreement. But I had time for no one, not when I could recruit one of the greatest enigmas of my life—someone who could activate some of the runes that no one else could, runes I would need to reach the book with the most destructive spell of all, the one that would end my beloved's suffering. That was why I was in a hurry, why I was anxious. She must not flee. If she hid her field, I would be trapped in the outer circles for many years... I did not think I could endure.
I found her in a cavern. Apparently, she had been mutated like the rest. Her horns were enormous. Despite the dissipation of the lust spell, she still appeared as a thin woman from hunger. I gave her the potion while infusing her with some of my magic, hoping she would recover a little from such a crisis of physical and mental exhaustion. When she opened her eyes, her pupils contracted from all the repressed memories. Her scream far surpassed all the others. The world had returned to her mind, and she rejected it. I held her for hours until sleep overcame her. Now I could only wait for her. I had to convince her. I had no alternative.