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"How can these roots be… fake?"
Sif stared at the thick root-like tendril that thrashed and writhed after Moira had injected it with her concoction. For a long moment, she struggled to comprehend how such a thing could exist beneath the Forest of Origin—an ancient woodland even older than the elven capital of Liaheim.
"We're lucky to have you, Moira. Without your help, I might've remained deceived for far longer," said Gewen, stepping solemnly into the pit Wang Yu had excavated. "These roots respond to the words of nature just as any true plant would. I've sent elves before to investigate the root network beneath the forest, but they found nothing. Now I see why."
He pressed his hand against the root, which was now weakening, its violent spasms gradually subsiding, the life within it withering minute by minute.
Even as it died, the aura it gave off was indistinguishable from a normal plant's.
"I've never seen anything quite like this," Moira admitted, her eyes grave as she watched the withering thing begin to deflate, leaking a foul-smelling green ichor...
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