The immortals stood still, staring at the strange nest-like structure, their breaths held. The air around them felt heavier, filled with both anticipation and uncertainty. Nyssa's sudden whisper broke the silence.
"The Gloomlings…" she said, her voice a mixture of shock and recognition.
Thalos narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to her. "Gloomlings? What are they?" he asked, confusion clear on his face.
Nyssa's gaze didn't leave the nest. "They're creatures… small, timid, and harmless, but their appearance…" She paused, as if searching for the right words. "Their appearance has always been their curse."
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Curse? They look ugly, you mean?"
Nyssa nodded slowly. "Not just ugly… terrifying, in a way that makes people see them as monsters. That's what happened in the village where I first saw them. The Gloomlings appeared out of nowhere one night, harmless and lost, but the villagers…" She trailed off, her expression darkening as the memories surfaced. "They saw creatures that looked like they crawled out of the deepest pits of the earth. Without understanding what they were, the people decided they must be dangerous. They thought these creatures were demons or beasts from some hellish place."
Elara frowned. "But they weren't dangerous?"
"No," Nyssa replied. "They were just… different. They didn't speak, didn't fight, just… existed. But the villagers couldn't stand their presence. It was their looks—twisted features, dark eyes, jagged skin. People don't accept what they don't understand, and fear makes them irrational." She sighed deeply. "The village elders decided to throw them out. Some villagers even tried to kill them. But the Gloomlings never retaliated, just scattered, running for their lives. I stayed behind, watched them go, and saw the truth—they were never a threat."
Thalos glanced back at the nest, skepticism on his face. "And you're sure these Gloomlings are the same ones? Harmless?"
Nyssa nodded firmly. "Yes, I'm sure. They're timid creatures. Their only crime is looking the way they do."
Eirik, who had been pacing anxiously, finally spoke up, his impatience boiling over. "We're wasting time!" he snapped. "Harmless or not, they've got Luna!"
Before anyone could react, Eirik rushed toward the nest, his sword drawn, his face filled with determination and desperation. "Give us back our Luna!" he shouted, slashing at the thick vines surrounding the nest.
The nest shook from the impact, and from within came a flurry of movement. Suddenly, small, shadowy figures began to scurry out, their dark forms barely distinguishable from the forest's shadows. The Gloomlings appeared, their eyes wide with fear as Eirik continued to strike at their home.
"Stop, Eirik!" Nyssa yelled, but he didn't listen. His fear for Luna had taken over.
The Gloomlings squeaked in terror, some of them fleeing, while a few brave ones stayed behind, attempting to defend their nest. They threw themselves at Eirik, their attacks little more than soft, harmless pushes, as if they were trying to fend him off with pillows. One even tossed a pile of dried leaves at him, which scattered in the wind. It was clear they meant no harm, only trying to protect their home.
But Eirik, driven by his panic, kept swinging his sword.
"That's enough!" Thalos shouted, rushing forward to grab Eirik's arm. He wrestled the sword from him with ease, his face stern. "They're harmless!"
Eirik breathed heavily, his eyes wild. "But Luna—"
A soft sound came from the nest, interrupting him. The immortals turned to see a small figure emerge from the shadows. Pip, Luna's little protector, waddled out of the nest, his eyes glowing with a strange mix of pride and nervousness.
And behind him, moving unsteadily on her tiny legs and hands, was Luna. She crawled forward in the way all babies do—wobbly and unsure, her little legs bent as she tried to balance on her arms and knees. She giggled softly, blissfully unaware of the chaos that had erupted around her.
The immortals' hearts collectively skipped a beat. Relief flooded through them at the sight of her unharmed.
"Luna…" Eirik breathed, dropping to his knees. He reached out, and Luna, recognizing him, crawled clumsily toward him, her little arms outstretched.
Nyssa sighed with deep relief, a small smile tugging at her lips. "See? The Gloomlings never meant any harm."
The few remaining Gloomlings, still hiding at the edges of the nest, peeked out cautiously, watching the immortals with wide, fearful eyes. Their twisted, strange forms looked even more vulnerable in the dim light of the forest.
"They were only protecting their home," Elara said softly. "Just as we would."
Eirik pulled Luna into his arms, cradling her close as she giggled and grabbed at his hair. He closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from him.
"Thank you," he whispered, though it was unclear whether he was speaking to the Gloomlings or to the immortals around him.
Slowly, the immortals gathered around Eirik and Luna, their earlier fear fading as calm settled over them. The Gloomlings, seeing no more danger, quietly retreated back into their nest, the tension between the two groups dissipating as quickly as it had formed.
And so, with Luna safe in their arms, the immortals stood together, their eyes drawn back to the path that led out of the forest.