While Elara was having her silent, charged gardening session with Leo, Lord Arion decided it was time to investigate the newcomer. The "tiny winged elf," as Valerius had called it, was a complete unknown, and its power was too significant to ignore.
Leaving Valerius to keep a watchful eye on Elara and the Gardener via the scrying pool, Arion and the youngest guardian, Lyra, left the Grove and ventured into the Sanctum proper. The Grand Druid moved with a purpose they hadn't seen in him for a century.
They didn't have to search for long. They found the fairy near the Wellspring itself, the very heart of the Sanctum's power. She was hovering over the pool of crystal-clear water, absorbing its pure, potent energy like a flower soaking up the sun.
As they approached, they could feel her aura. It was wild, ancient, and joyful, crackling with a power that felt both alien and deeply familiar. It was the raw, untamed essence of Nature itself, concentrated into one tiny being.
Leo was right to assume the fairy would become stronger here, but he couldn't have comprehended the scale. In her own world—the world of the bustling fantasy plaza—ambient magic was weak. Nature had been tamed, confined, and commodified. The fairy's power there was like a lamp running on a dying battery.
Here, in the Sanctum, she was plugged directly into a nuclear reactor. The Wellspring's limitless font of life-force supercharged her abilities exponentially. She wasn't just a nature spirit anymore; she was becoming an avatar of Nature itself.
She turned as the two elves approached, her luminous eyes regarding them without fear. In the low magic of her previous world, beings like the merchant had been able to trap her. Here, suffused with the power of the Sanctum, she sensed no threat from these "tall elves." They smelled of moss, old bark, and deep reverence for the earth. They were kin.
"Incredible," Lyra breathed, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of the ceremonial blade at her side before she forced it to relax.
Lord Arion held up a hand, signaling for calm. He felt no malice from the creature, only an overwhelming sense of ancient joy. He held out his own gnarled, bark-like hand as a peaceful gesture.
The fairy zipped forward in a flash of golden light. Instead of landing on his hand, she flew right up to his face. She was so close he could see the intricate, shifting patterns on her wings. Before he could react, she gave his weathered cheek a playful, affectionate nuzzle—a "hug" for a being her size.
A jolt of pure life-force, warm and vibrant, shot through him. The aches in his ancient bones didn't just ease; they vanished. The world, which had seemed slightly faded around the edges for the last few hundred years, snapped back into sharp, brilliant focus. For a fleeting moment, he felt a thousand years younger.
Lyra stared, her jaw slack. She had just witnessed a wild, unknown entity grant their revered Grand Druid a blessing more potent than any healing spell she had ever seen. The reverence she felt for Arion deepened. Of course, such a powerful nature spirit would recognize and embrace a being as in-tune with the world as him. He truly was the most blessed of their kind.
Arion, humbled by the experience, gently closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, attempting to form a mental link, a communication of pure intent.
He felt a response, not in language, but in a wave of pure, unadulterated happiness and gratitude.
The fairy did not send back a formal reply. There was no need. She zipped away from his face, did another joyful loop in the air, and then shot off in the direction of the garden. A single, clear feeling was left in her wake: Nod.
Lord Arion stood in silence for a long moment, feeling the renewed vitality coursing through his ancient veins. This "Gardener" had not only gifted them with restorative food and strengthened the Sanctum's aura with his presence; he had now gifted them a powerful ally, a spirit of life straight from a forgotten age.
Every action the strange human took seemed to benefit them in ways they could never have anticipated. His value to Silverwood was becoming immeasurable. And the Grand Druid knew, with absolute certainty, that they had to secure his good will, no matter the cost. His gaze drifted toward the garden, where he knew Elara was already beginning that crucial work.