The black bloom had devoured everything within its radius, leaving a wasteland of destruction. Trees stood stripped of leaves, their bark cracking and rotting. The ground was slick with a dark, viscous substance, and the air around the bloom felt heavy and suffocating.
“What is that?” Sorcha stammered, her voice trembling.
“I don’t know,” Eirin said grimly, his hand still gripping her arm as if afraid to let go. “It’s just like the last one we saw, but that was on the other side of the city… it’s spreading.”
Sorcha’s mind raced as she stared at the spreading darkness. She turned to Eirin, her resolve hardening. “We need to get back. Nethran has to see this. He has to know.”
Eirin nodded, his jaw clenched. “Agreed. Let’s go before it catches up with us.”
Without another word, they turned and bolted through the forest, the haunting sight of the black bloom etched into their memories, a grim reminder of the growing sickness threatening their world.
Chapter 31
A Council of Fools
Eirin and Sorcha raced to Nethran’s office within the Druid School, sweat pouring down their faces and breath ragged gasps as they burst through the doors. The commander, looking concerned, studied them as they tried to catch their breath. He waited patiently, his gaze shifting between the two as they began speaking at once, voices overlapping in a chaotic jumble. Unable to decipher their words, Commander Nethran raised a hand. “Alright, alright, settle down! One at a time, officers.”
Sorcha glanced at Eirin. Eirin, still catching his breath, said, “There was a very sick great elk in the forest. It was dying… black blood pouring from its eyes and mouth. It was struggling so much. I couldn’t watch it suffer any longer, so I ended its misery.”
He paused still breathing heavily. “But as soon as I did, something… happened. Black vines started pouring out of the elk’s body, spreading rapidly. We ran as fast as we could.”
Commander Nethran remained outwardly calm, but the concern—possibly even fear—etched into his expression was unmistakable. His voice was steady but firm as he spoke. “I need the two of you to head to the library immediately. I’m sending for the others and the elders.”
Sorcha and Eirin exchanged uneasy glances. Before they could say anything further, Commander Nethran’s voice thundered through the room, “NOW!”
The sharpness of his tone startled them both, leaving no room for hesitation. Without another word, Sorcha and Eirin turned and made their way out of the office, the urgency in his command pushing them toward the library without delay. Once inside the library, the two began pacing.
Eirin spoke first, his voice taut with frustration as the words spilled out. “This started three months ago here with that bloom we found after those rogue creature attacked the village’s livestock and you. Other regions have encounter this too and the elders keep insisting these are isolated events.
Eirin ran his hands through his hair, his tension etched across the tight line of his lips, the furrow of his brows. “What really pisses me off is how the elders keep brushing it off. Saying the bloom might be part of nature’s cycle, that life and death are balanced. As if that explains the decay spreading faster than anything natural. And now, after everything we’ve seen, they still refuse to admit what’s in front of them. The Fomorians have returned; everyone saw them. We’ve tossed their bodies to the fires.”
“People are suffering, and they’re being left to deal with it alone. They’ve come to us as a last resort, and even then, no one listened.” Sorcha began fiddling with her dagger hilt, adjusting and readjusting her belt.
Eirin’s frustration grew as he rubbed the back of his neck as he continued to pace. Both lost in thought as they pieced together the threads.
Sorcha’s voice broke the stillness. “It’s all connected, isn’t it? Every single thing. The bloom, the wolves, the horse, the kelpie, Meadowrun, the festival… and now that elk. It’s spreading.”
They stood outside the Grand Mirror waiting for the others to arrive. As the others arrived they filed into the space. Sorcha, Eirin, Riona, Drystan, Rhosyn, Mason, Kyron and Commander Nethran stood together, facing the Elders seated at the far end of the chamber. Despite the weight of recent events, the Elders’ expressions remained calm, almost detached.
Commander Nethran opened the discussion. “We’ve gathered to address the escalating threats in Lumora and beyond. The Circle has faced these events firsthand, and I believe their accounts demand immediate attention.”
Elder Caerwyn was the first to speak, her voice composed. “Before we leap to conclusions, we must remember that nature operates in cycles. Life, decay, and renewal are inevitable parts of our world. The black blooms could simply signify a natural shift, unpleasant but not unprecedented. Riona stiffened beside Sorcha, her pale hands curling into fists.
Her voice broke through the room like a blade. “Cycles don’t tear people apart. They don’t destroy entire regions. What we’re seeing isn’t some natural shift; it’s devastation. It’s death. And you’re sitting here trying to rationalize it.”
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Riona. Her grief radiated through every word, but her tone was controlled. Sorcha placed a steadying hand on her arm, but Riona didn’t waver.
Eirin stepped forward. “We’ve seen the signs for months now; the bloom started in the forest.” His voice grew louder, his hands balling into fists. Sorcha could see his snake rune moving at the edge of his shirt glowing everso slightly. “These aren’t isolated incidents. This is the Fomorians returning, and you’re still sitting here debating!”
Elder Orlan’s tone turned bitter. “Mind your tongue. We are not dismissing these events, but caution is paramount. Acting rashly could worsen an already precarious balance.”
Sorcha spoke up. “We’ve all seen signs. If we wait any longer, there won’t be a city to protect.”
Kyron, standing beside Sorcha, finally broke his silence. His deep voice a low warning as he spoke. “The Fomorians have returned. Call it what you like, but you can’t deny what’s in front of you. If the Elders won’t act, eventually the people will.” His eyes locked on the elders, daring them to challenge him.
Elder Caerwyn hesitated, her calm facade slipping just slightly. “Are you threatening the council? Commander Nethran, get your officers under control or we will be forced to.”
Riona let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “People are dying. Emry is dead. What more needs to happen?”
