Ivy walked alongside Nirva, her steps light as they approached the base of the great tree she called her home. The soft glow of the tree reflected in Ivy’s wide eyes, the awe she always felt in its presence briefly pushing aside her earlier turmoil. Nirva moved with her usual composed demeanor, her dark cloak trailing slightly behind her as she gripped her staff with practiced ease.

  Just as they reached the base of the tree, the faint sound of footsteps on moss broke the silence. A voice called out from the shadows, sharp and clear.

  “Ivy!”

  Both women turned in unison, Ivy’s gaze curious, Nirva’s sharp and alert. A figure emerged from the edge of the grove, their outline indistinct against the dimming light filtering through the canopy above.

  A sudden blur of motion interrupted the quiet. A ball of white fur moved so quickly that Nirva’s grip on her staff tightened instinctively, though she made no other move.

  “Did you bring anything shiny?” the creature chirped, its wide eyes gleaming with excitement as it perched on Ivy’s shoulder. Its voice was high-pitched, brimming with uncontainable curiosity.

  Ivy sighed, her lips curling into an exasperated but affectionate smile. It had been several weeks since Ivy and Nirva had first found Neeko, and in that time, the small creature had begun to heal. His strength had returned, and with it, a spark of courage that grew brighter each day. Though he had no choice but to call this new world his home after being cast out of the Feywild, Ivy was determined to help him find his place in it, and perhaps, in time, help him belong.

  “Sorry, Neeko, not this time.”

  The creature puffed out its chest in mock offense, its tiny, furry hands tapping against Ivy’s shoulder as if to scold her. “Not even a little sparkle? A glimmer? You’re losing your touch, Ivy,” it declared dramatically, though its twitching tail betrayed its playful mood.

  “I see you’re still indulging his antics,” Nirva said, her sharp tone softened by the faintest trace of amusement. Her pale eyes briefly left the forest’s edge to focus on the lively exchange, her posture relaxing just slightly.

  “He’s harmless,” Ivy replied, reaching up to gently scratch Neeko behind the ears. The creature let out a low, satisfied purr, leaning into her touch with exaggerated delight. “Besides, he’s got a knack for finding things. Don’t you, Neeko?”

  The little creature tilted its head, as if weighing the compliment carefully. Finally, it gave a dramatic nod. “Finding things, yes. Keeping things? Even better.”

  “Of course,” Ivy muttered with a small laugh, rolling her eyes. Nirva watched the interaction in silence, her expression unreadable as Ivy’s laughter faded. The momentary levity did little to lift the weight hanging between them.

  Ivy’s attention drifted back to Nirva, her tone growing serious again. “We need to keep moving,” she said quietly, adjusting her grip on her staff. Neeko shifted slightly on her shoulder, sensing the change in mood but remaining perched as if to remind them of his presence.

  Nirva nodded, her gaze returning to the forest. “Let’s not waste time,” she said firmly, already turning toward the great tree’s entrance.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Ivy stepped through the door, the faint creak of its wooden hinges breaking the stillness. Nirva followed close behind, her rigid staff tapping sharply against the spiraling wooden stairs. Neeko scurried in quick, darting movements, his small frame nearly disappearing into the shadows. As his paw brushed against Nirva’s cloak, she turned sharply, her pale eyes narrowing.

  “Watch it, rodent,” Nirva snapped, her voice cold and clipped. Neeko froze mid-step, clutching at Ivy’s shoulder for safety. His wide eyes peeked up at her, his tail curling tightly around Ivy’s neck like a shield.

  “He’s not a rodent,” Ivy said softly, her voice steady but without malice. She turned her head slightly, meeting Nirva’s glare with quiet resolve. “He’s our friend.”

  For a moment, Nirva’s sharp expression remained unchanged, but then her shoulders eased, and she sighed, brushing a stray strand of dark hair from her face. “Your … friend,” she conceded reluctantly, her tone lacking its usual bite. With a flick of her hand, she gestured toward the stairs ahead. “Just keep him out of my way.”

  Neeko’s nervousness melted into smug confidence, and he stuck his tongue out at her. “I’m staying, huh? You hear that? Not a rodent,” he chirped with mock triumph.

  Nirva’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before she could retort, Neeko scampered higher onto Ivy’s shoulder, muttering under his breath. “No, no, not testing my luck.”

  The group reached the top of the stairs, where an intricate door of woven branches stood like a sentinel. The branches appeared to breathe, their edges glinting faintly in the soft glow emanating from within. Ivy paused, her hand hovering over the door as though the tree might feel her hesitation. She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing against the cool surface before she pushed it open. At the center of the room, a hearth flickered with soft flames, casting soothing shadows that danced along the walls.

  Ivy drifted toward the hearth as though drawn by its warmth. She sank into a carved wooden chair, her body settling into the embrace of its worn frame. Neeko hopped onto the armrest, his bright eyes studying her with quiet curiosity. Ivy’s gaze remained downcast, her usual brightness replaced by a distant melancholy.

  “It was like nothing I’ve felt before,” she murmured, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the chair’s arm. “It’s been spreading all over the forest these days, you know, angry and cold. I tried to heal it, but I couldn’t.” Odd things continued to spread through the forest—corruption and rot. Ivy, for once, didn’t know how to stop it.

  Nirva stepped further into the sanctuary, her staff clicking softly against the wooden floor. She remained silent for a moment, her sharp eyes studying Ivy. “It’s not just the forest. The corruption is intentional. Whatever this is, it has a will behind it.”

  Ivy’s fingers stilled, her brow furrowing. “A will? You mean … someone is causing this?”

  “Or something,” Nirva said, her tone grim. She placed her staff gently against the wall and crossed her arms. “Whatever it is, it’s resisting us deliberately. Your healing isn’t ineffective—it was blocked.”

  Ivy’s shoulders sank further. “Blocked ?” she whispered. “But why? Why would anyone want to do this to the forest?”

  Neeko, unusually quiet, shifted on the armrest, his tail swishing thoughtfully. “Big bads like shadows,” he chirped after a pause. “They don’t need reasons we’d understand.”

  Ivy closed her eyes, the flickering light of the hearth playing across her troubled features. “Either way, I know I have to stop it. Only, I don’t know if I can do it.”

  Nirva stepped closer, her sharp demeanor softening slightly. She placed a hand on Ivy’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she said quietly. “But if we’re going to fight this, we need to understand it first. That means we need more information, and gathering information takes time and effort.”

  Ivy nodded faintly, though doubt still lingered in her eyes. Neeko leaned closer, his bright eyes gleaming. “Well, you’ve got me,” he chirped, his voice lighter again.

  Nirva gave him a withering look, but Ivy’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I know,” she said softly. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”