“Toothpaste?”

“Yeah,” Elijah said, running his hand through his hair. If there was one thing he liked about fighting in his various bestial shapes, it was that the blood and other viscera that inevitably came with ripping monsters apart with his claws failed to sully his hair or clothes. It was only when he was forced to resume his human form – usually to heal – that he ever picked up damage to his gear. “You know, fights gingivitis and halitosis. I have some in my satchel, but it’s kind of lost its minty kick, if you know what I mean. Been on the lookout for a new supply.”

“And you believe that I have access to such things?” asked Rakhan, obviously confused by the sudden shift. Going from slaughtering Voxx to talking about dental health was quite a shift.

“Well, you clearly have great oral hygiene.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So, what’s your secret?”

“Charcoal and sage.”

“Ew. Charcoal is terrible for tooth enamel,” Elijah said. “But sage…I could do sage. I think I have some in the grove.”

“I have also used salt.”

“Gross. My dad used to make me gargle saltwater when I had a sore throat. He called it a home remedy. I called it torture. And rightly, I developed an aversion to it,” Elijah revealed with a shake of his head. “I think I’m just going to have to bite the bullet and have my friend make some toothpaste for me.”

After all, Biggle had decent teeth. Surely, his world had something like toothpaste.

“I agree that dental hygiene is important. A clean body and clean heart – they are both acts of devotion to Waheguru,” Rakhan stated with a nod. “However, this does not seem the best place to debate such things. I suggest we take our rewards and leave this hell.”

“You know what? Probably a good idea.”

With that, Elijah turned his attention to the white crystal that hovered before him. It was a small thing, barely more than a foot tall and half as wide. Though it did pulse with a small amount of ethera that, compared to the chests he’d been awarded after conquering the Primal Realms, seemed a little disappointing.

He shook his head, prompting a question from Rakhan. “What is it, my friend?”

“Just realizing that I’m turning into a bit of a treasure snob,” he admitted with a wry grin. “Never mind me. Let’s open our presents.”

Rakhan narrowed his eyes at the odd characterization of their rewards, but he didn’t say anything else. That left Elijah to focus on the crystal. He reached out, touching it, which prompted a notification:

Elijah found himself holding a large seed that pulsed with both life and ethera. When he turned his full attention on it, he was disappointed to see that it was no longer viable. He would not be planting it anywhere.

So, what was its purpose? Elijah had no idea. But given what he’d gone through to get it, he expected it was at least reasonably valuable. He turned his attention to Rakhan, who, from the looks of the vial he’d just turned up, had gotten an attribute potion. The hunter confirmed it a second later, saying that he’d gotten a few attribute points.

For a moment, Elijah was a little jealous. Attributes seemed a lot more immediately useful. However, upon thinking about it for a few seconds, he had to admit that a couple more attribute points wouldn’t do much for him. Hopefully, the riftseed would prove more useful for him.

After dismissing it into his Arcane Loop, he led Rakhan through the rip in reality and back to the real world. Once there, Elijah was once again reminded of the dense corruption in the area.

He frowned.

“What?”

“We can’t leave it like this,” he answered.

“There is nothing we can do. I have seen something like this before. The wildlife is lost.”

“What did you do?”

“Killed everything and burned the forest.”

Elijah shook his head. “I don’t accept that.”

He was a Druid. A steward of nature. If he couldn’t affect the corrupted environment and save at least some of the ecosystem, then what was all his power for? The question was how he was supposed to affect any change.

His first thought was to simply use his healing spells. And while that might work for the animals, he knew it would do nothing for the plants. On top of that, he expected that the corruption infecting the local wildlife would be far too stubborn to be banished by a couple of spells.

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So, he dropped into a crouch and closed his eyes. He didn’t cast his senses outward, though. Instead, he looked inward – specifically at the facet of his mind containing his trauma and half-forgotten pain.

It loomed over everything, black and malformed. Like a combination of calcification and infection. It reminded him of those photos he’d once seen in anti-smoking ads comparing a healthy lung to a smoker’s.

The more he looked at it, the more similar it seemed to the corrupted park. Different. Related, maybe. But completely unconnected. However, as he studied it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he could learn something important from the similarities that did exist between them.

Elijah wasn’t certain how long he remained there, his eyes closed and squatting in the center of a thousand black tendrils of corruption. Hours, at least. Perhaps as long as a day. To his credit, Rakhan stood sentry over him, killing any corrupted beasts that happened upon them.

Before entering the rift, they’d killed the majority of infected animals in the area, so there weren’t many left for Rakhan to deal with. Still – Elijah found himself wincing at every death. The beasts were innocent. They didn’t deserve what had happened to them. And Elijah felt deeply guilty about failing to help them.

It was well after nightfall that Elijah opened his eyes and looked up at the moon hanging high in the sky.

“What did you discover?” Rakhan asked.

“I’m not sure,” Elijah admitted. “But even if this works, it might take a while.” He swallowed hard, then retrieved his canteen from his Arcane Loop. He took a long drink, then wiped his forearm across his mouth. “Tell me if this feels weird.”

Then, he closed his eyes and focused on two things. The first was Grove Conduit. He didn’t open the floodgates as he usually did, but rather, only let a trickle through. Then, he summoned Blessing of the Grove to do his bidding. The sunflower bloomed expectedly, followed by a light shower that filled him with rejuvenation.

“Brace yourself,” he said without opening his eyes.

A moment later, he extended his Mantle of Authority. In previous uses, Elijah had mostly used it to suppress hostile effects – like in the Elemental Maelstrom. However, most recently, he’d employed the mantle to assist Hope in taking the first step in her journey of cultivation. The uses were wholly different – like two sides of the same coin. Opposites but separated by such a thin line that they could have been twins.

This time, he tried to channel both purposes at the same time.

It was a mistake. He grunted in pain as he felt like he was being split in two. But it was just the first attempt, and if nothing else, Elijah had long since proven that he was not to be deterred by something so ephemeral as pain. He felt certain that his plan would work. The only question was how he would implement it.

So, he buckled down and brought the full force of his considerable willpower to bear. It took hours, but eventually, he achieved something approaching success. Opening his eyes, he could see the branches of his soul. One half glowed, verdant and full of life. The other, with hostility that felt very much like death. Or destruction. Decay. The two halves of nature.

But they were separate, which meant that they had no effect on the corruption.

Pointedly, Rakhan had quickly moved out of range. Elijah could sense him barely a few feet away from the most extensive branch of his mantle. The hunter stared at it in awe, though he quickly pulled his attention back to the forest. He was on guard, and he was far too determined to let himself waver in that duty.

As impressive as it was, the mantle was not what Elijah needed. So, he sank back into meditation and focused on the problem at hand. Separate, the two halves were insufficient to the task. But together…together…Elijah’s instincts screamed at him that it was the answer.

So, after renewing his spells, he refocused.

Hours more passed. Elijah was vaguely aware of Rakhan fighting to protect him, but he paid it no mind. The hunter would do what was necessary. And given Elijah’s purpose, even a small waver in concentration would ruin everything.

Because weaving life and death together was not a task to be undertaken lightly. Failure would have consequences.

As Elijah worked, he thought back to his experiences in Hong Kong. There, life and death intermingled to a frightening degree. Certainly, in many cases, death had overwhelmed life. But they still coexisted. They wove themselves together in a way where neither could exist without the other.

Elijah needed that.

Though, his purpose was different. He had no interest in creating the undead creatures he’d seen in Hong Kong. Instead, he needed a tool. A way to eradicate contamination and offer healing in the aftermath. It was the only way to rid the park of the corruption spread by the rift.

At least as far as Elijah knew. Others had surely discovered better ways. For all he knew, there were whole classes built around it. But Elijah was a Druid. A caretaker and defender of nature. Dealing with that corruption was well within the purview of his class. Of his purpose.

Following the examples he’d seen and using his instincts, he wove the two concepts together. The process was time-consuming, the work itself meticulous. However, surrounded by the energy from his grove, he felt as inspired as he ever had while working on one of his staves.

One inch after another, he molded his Mantle of Authority to his will. It shrank. But with every foot it retreated, it grew that much more powerfully concentrated. Bit by bit, he converted the mantle until, what felt like an eternity later, he was finished.

He let out a gasp.

And finally, Elijah opened his eyes. The branches of energy that comprised his mantle were still visible – a mixture of green and a brown so dark it might have been black – though it only extended twelve feet in every direction. More importantly, the area beneath those boughs was entirely free of corruption. The black tendrils of pure contamination had withered into nothing, and now they lay dry and powerless.

“How?” asked Rakhan. He’d never wavered in his duty, standing guard the entire time.

“It’s called a Mantle of Authority,” Elijah said. He pushed himself to his feet. “I realized that what I was doing before was only part of the equation. It was just a naked stone waiting to become a sculpture. So, I carved it according to my purpose.”

Indeed, Elijah wasn’t the sort of Druid who spent his life cultivating a garden or nurturing the grove. Instead, he was a protector. The sort of man who would employ violence to accomplish his goals. But he was also a healer. Two sides. Two facets of who he was. And he’d molded them into a representation of his path.

“Step closer,” Elijah said. “It shouldn’t hurt you.”

To his credit, Rakhan didn’t hesitate to follow Elijah’s instructions. He strode forward confidently, stepping beneath the boughs without question. He let out a deep breath.

Rakhan had been in good health – high attributes would do that – but long hours, perhaps even days, of standing guard had taken their toll. Elijah watched as that fatigue melted away. Indeed, Rakhan stood taller, his back straighter, and his skin healthier. He looked like a man reborn.

That was the vitality.

At the same time, Elijah knew that Rakhan’s body was being purified. Whatever contaminants he’d picked up along the way were banished, contributing to his overall health.

“Nice, huh?”

Rakhan could only nod.

“Alright – we’ve got a park to clean up. Let’s get to it,” Elijah said. Then, he thought better of it. A second later, a grove fruit appeared in his hand. He offered it to Rakhan, who took it eagerly. Meanwhile, Elijah tore into another, thankful that he’d restocked before leaving the grove. Once finished, he said, “No time like the present, I guess.”