"Titania," Lysander said, his gaze sweeping over the glade, now stained with the black ichor of the defeated Shadowed Guardian, "you spoke of a taint upon this land. If this is to be the foundation of my territory, I would prefer it to be… clean."
Titania nodded, her emerald eyes filled with a somber determination. "I can try, Lord Lysander. But as I said, the corruption runs deep. I can feel it seeping further and further into the very heart of this world."
She floated to the center of the glade, her iridescent wings unfolding fully, catching the faint silvery light filtering through the canopy. She closed her eyes, and a soft, emerald glow began to emanate from her delicate form. The air around her shimmered, and a wave of pure, vibrant energy pulsed outwards.
As the emerald light spread, a visible change began to occur in the immediate vicinity. The sickly grey moss on the ground seemed to regain a hint of green. The twisted thorns on the ancient trees receded slightly, and new, unfurling leaves appeared, their color a vibrant, healthy emerald. The air grew lighter, the oppressive humidity receding, replaced by a fresh, invigorating scent of blooming flowers and clean earth. The small stream nearby sparkled with renewed clarity, its water seeming to hum with a gentle life force.
For a good couple of minutes, the transformation was remarkable. A small circle of vibrant life bloomed around Titania, a stark contrast to the corrupted landscape beyond. The pulsating glow of the alien flora within this circle softened, their colors becoming more natural and less jarring. It was a pocket of the Feywild, a testament to Titania's potent connection to the untainted energies of nature.
However, Lysander noticed a subtle resistance. The edge of the purified area seemed to waver, as if an unseen force was pushing back against Titania's efforts. The sickly grey of the surrounding moss seemed to creep infinitesimally closer, like a tide receding only to slowly advance again. The vibrant green of the newly unfurled leaves at the edge of the circle seemed to flicker, tinged with a faint, unhealthy brown.
Titania's brow furrowed in concentration, beads of light perspiration forming on her forehead. The emerald glow emanating from her intensified, but Lysander could see the strain in her delicate features, the slight tremor in her outstretched hands.
Then, the change began to actively reverse. The purified moss at the edges started to revert to its sickly grey. The vibrant green of the new leaves dulled, the brown tinge spreading like a creeping blight. The air around Titania, though still carrying a hint of freshness, felt heavier once more.
And then, it happened. From the corrupted ground at the edge of the purified circle, thin, black tendrils of shadow, similar to those that had writhed around the Shadowed Guardian, snaked outwards. They moved with a disturbing speed, their tips reaching towards Titania, as if drawn to her pure energy.
Titania gasped, her emerald eyes snapping open, now filled with alarm. She frantically conjured a shield of shimmering green light around herself, the black tendrils slamming against it with a viscous impact. The shield flickered under the assault, the pure light struggling against the encroaching darkness.
"The corruption… it's fighting back!" Titania cried out, her voice strained. "It's too strong… it's trying to reclaim what I've purified!"
Lysander watched the scene unfold, a knot of worry tightening in his chest. The visible change in the environment, the vibrant life blooming around Titania, had given him a surge of hope. But now, seeing the corruption actively pushing back, threatening to engulf the very source of that purity, filled him with a cold dread. The tendrils of shadow, reaching for Titania like grasping claws, were a terrifying testament to the depth and tenacity of the blight upon this world. His powerful ally was struggling, and the hope for a clean foundation for his territory was rapidly fading. He had to act.