After drinking Morgana's potion, Nimble soon drifted off to sleep.
The dark wizard carried an indifferent expression as she turned towards the petrified dryad.
"It really paid off. Investing so much time on the study of alchemy was the right decision after all. It isn't surprising, however, because it's a vast field with many applications."
Reflecting on this, Morgana took out another flask. But this one was really small, having only a finger's worth of liquid.
The content was yellow-colored, yet transparent at the same time.
Approaching the defeated enemy, she smeared Sylvan's temples with the gel-like substance and then pressed two of her fingers on both sides.
"I have only done this on animals before in this world, but the knowledge should also be applicable here. Besides, I am very familiar with the biology of fey in general, so it will be fine."
Her hands glowed golden as Morgana chanted the incantation.
"From my fingers, I feel your mind, your past and your soul. Show me all that is worth knowing. Memory Search."
Flashes of many different things appeared before Morgana's eyes as she learned a lot from this prey.
"This..."
She was left speechless for a while.
After arriving in Agatha, her luck had been quite bad. But now... Now she found a real treasure trove.
Barely managing to suppress her excitement, Morgana turned towards the sleeping gnome.
"I hope you will also be able to present me with an equally enticing prize, little one."
....
When Titania died, the fairies, just like the gnomes fell into discord.
No longer any single individual could claim the crown, as the blessing from Agatha was Titania's and Titania's alone.
Thus division was set between the fey, which were now only united by their hatred of gnomes. However, among the fairies, a distinct layer of segregation was set.
Different kinds of fey decided to appoint different leaders and, as such, the distinctiveness of these factions were determined not by bonds of friendship forged with time, like the gnomes, but by their subraces.
Moonbeam's Gift was the ruler chosen by the Dryads, their Archfey, Exalted Guardian of Daygleam Valley.
Under him, lived more than a hundred dryads, tens of thousands of treants as well as countless animals, half of which were concentrated in this colony, Daygleam Valley, a region teeming with life.
Just like any other land held by powerful fey, these grounds were infused with great vitality, provided by their nature-based magic. Plants here grew stronger and the beasts, healthier.
....
A sturdy man in green robes stood at the gates of Daygleam Valley. He gave off a heroic impression through his serious countenance and distinct construction.
This was the entry of the Dryad Faction's main colony and Nebula was its keeper.
Unlike what is to be expected of a fey folk sentry, the man wasn't concerned with hiding his presence.
The reason for his attitude was simple. That wasn't his task.
The perimeter, several kilometers around the valley, was filled to the brim with secret methods of gathering information. From a complex network of beast spies, lead by especial fey animal spirits, to the very ground, which was infused with their ruler's will. Everything was designed to make sure no attack against their center of power would ever go unnoticed.
So, Nebula's assignment was a different one. He and the treants under his command were to form the first line of defense in case of conflict, taking full advantage of this narrow pathway, which was the valley's only entrance, excluding the possibility of a painful and arduous climb through the surrounding mountains.
But today he was tasked with a different job. To welcome back an important member of their community who just returned to the valley after a long term mission.
From the west came a handsome young man with green hair and an intelligent-looking red bird on his right shoulder.
After seeing the man that just arrived, Nebula bowed his head and respectfully said.
"Protector Sylvan, it is so good to have you back with us. We are all thankful for your service. I was sent here by the Guardian himself, who wishes to hear your mission report in person as soon as possible."
With a somber attitude, Sylvan answered.
"Yes of course. The situation is dire after all."
Caressing his new bird casually, the protector looked ominously towards the west as he appeared to lose himself in deep thought.
Nebula, the gatekeeper, was concerned. Everything about this felt wrong to him. From the protector's sudden return to the somber aura that he carried at the moment.
After some hesitation, the guard asked.
"Sir, can I ask you some questions about what happened?"
To this, Sylvan answered with a serious face.
"You may not."
Nebula only sighed and nodded his head, before guiding Sylvan to meet with their leader. As a protector, this man held a much higher position on the hierarchy than him. So the simple act of asking was already daring enough. If the protector only wished to discuss this matter with Moonbeam's Gift, there was really nothing he could do, even if he felt troubled by the whole situation.
.....
On a cave deep beneath the earth, Morgana worked at breakneck speed. There was so much to do and yet so little time. But she refused to let this precious chance go by unused. As the saying goes. "Opportunities multiply when they are seized."
With great skill, Morgana commanded the golems and quickly set up an improvised lab. Before the great plan could come to fruition, there were certain preparations that needed to be made.
This was a risky enterprise and usually, Morgana would avoid taking such reckless actions. In fact, she only dared to do so in light of the new information that was acquired through Nimble and Sylvan.
Agatha was a young world. So young in fact that Morgana herself was more than twice as old as its most ancient inhabitant. The knowledge she held would be considered revolutionary by even the greatest of the few wizards which existed on this land.
And most important of all was the status of the Great Forest. This whole region was very isolated from the rest of the world. Other races considered Azov or the Feywild (names given by the gnomes and fey respectively) to be a very inhospitable place.
Humans preferred to live on the fertile plains to the west, while orcs wouldn't be able to access vast amounts of grass away from the steppes where they were born, which was a necessary requirement to feed the great mounts that they were very proud of.
For those peoples, the forest was a bug-infested hell with nothing worth exploring.
Besides, the two races that lived here had been constantly trying to destroy each other over the course of these last centuries. The result was a slow and steady decline of both parties involved.
However, in the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity. Morgana could take advantage of this to gather the resources and knowledge she desperately needed. All the while remaining unnoticed. A dark foe protected by the shroud of ignorance. For, as both sides grew weaker, she would grow stronger.
The great question, however, was "could she afford to do this if this world had other extremely powerful existences such as Saci?"
No. It wouldn't be wise.
But after living here for months and having absorbed the memories of two veteran warriors, Morgana was progressively convinced that this was not the case.
First, his magic was different from anything she had seen before, both in Griseo and in Agatha.
But what made her get to this conclusion was the scroll he had given her.
"To the winner, the potatoes."
Those were the words left behind by the organization known as Ianomâmi-Tupi Sect, a legendary group of Antiquity, which had mysteriously disappeared from her homeworld. However, they also appeared in Saci's gift, which meant that the Whirlwind Rider was probably involved with the Sect.
It was simply too much of a coincidence to not be true.
As such, Morgana deduced that the mysterious man came neither from Griseo nor from Agatha but from somewhere else, a place where the sects inheritors still lived. This meant that Saci was drawn to her location after sensing Morgana's use of the mirror.
Breaking the barriers between worlds was a feat worthy of legends, but when it came to this mysterious organization, it was certainly an easy matter. After all, to them that mirror was an ordinary item, which was stored by the Sect in great quantities.
After the crude installations were finished, the dark wizard opened a very large wooden box, covered by many circular-shaped arcane drawings.
"I didn't think there would be an opportunity to use this for quite a while, but its a good thing I prepared for it, just in case."
Inside the box, there was a female figure sound asleep. She wore black robes, had messy hair and deep shadows beneath the eyes. In every detail, she was identical to the original Morgana, a perfect duplicate.