#corruption warning

"It-... It burns..." Wind Archer choked out from his throat, that of which stung from the scarlet poison that he had consumed moments prior. Though his vision fuzzed around the edges, he could clearly make out the dull expression of the priestess before him. Despite his pains, she didn't seem to have any care for him nor his transition.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" The one who had given such a toxic drink to him... Her voice was as crisp as windchimes. For someone so stolid, there was a strange form of innocence behind it all... Perhaps he'd hold the same once this was all over with.

Without an answer in mind, the archer coughed, soon turning into a fit of them. Wind's body lost its balance for a moment, weakened. The fluid within him was most certainly killing him, wasn't it? He knew it would be painful, yet the searing sensation building in his throat that spread through his veins like wildfire was far more than he had anticipated. He could feel his leaves wilting as he fell to one knee, gaze dropping to the floor as his mind spun.

"It takes suffering to attain freedom." The voice that was now above the archer due to his crippled state chimed again, feeling more like a gust through windchimes rather than a breeze. It was the slightest bit fuzzy to Wind, all things considered. "If you are willing to last, then you can achieve the freedom from that fiend of arbor as you wished." Had he- Had he truly wished for that? It was difficult to think- yet the reminder of arbor caused a heave in his chest.

Onto his hands he went, throat once again feeling as if they'd hack out a lung or two once the toxins had reached his chest. It felt as if it was being burned alive, the carving of the Tree's image becoming a source of torturous sensation. Whatever was occurring with it- No matter how it felt- He hoped it would burn out of his skin. That Millennial Tree... Such a cowardly dictator he was-!

A snarl had mixed with the archer's coughing and labored breaths. It was forced upon him- The carving- his role- everything that he was...! He had no will, nor did that little deer that the archer himself had foolishly brought to such a horrid man of wooden, woven lies.

Of course, he wanted out.

Gentle feathers dyed themselves into the crude blackness, skin corroding to a sickening lavender... The poison would wrack his system with despair, yet it would renew him. Though Wind's consciousness fades, his fury and freedom coalesce. Above the Archer, there is a grin from the young priestess Pomegranate.

The wind howled through the treetops, leaves scattered through the air in their glory of brilliant autumn colors. Upon the ground they'd fall, lacing the soil where the guardian of earth and guardian of wind faced one another. Once loyal, though now nothing but true to himself, the archer who brought the breeze stood the offense. Pointing a poisoned arrow at the Millennial Tree, the Archer's eyes remained shrowded by his own beliefs as the tree before him approached passively.

"You are scared, are you not, dear Windgrass?" The words spoken from Millennial were soft and caressed with grace, yet were met with nothing more than a warning arrow shot. A purposeful miss, though there was something more than warning unintentionally spreading as the arrow waned into the earth below. "Please, open your eyes. Nothing you are doing is going to accomplish your goal. Your freedom, do you really believe this poison within your viens will grant you such?"

Another warning shot blazed past the tree, yet his approach continued. A gentle green aura surrounded him as he drew ever closer to the Raven. As if instinctual, the bow-wielder spread his wings, mulberry feathers scattering with the leaves as he readied another shot. "Do not take a single step further, you conniving bundle of branches." Night Raven's voice growled, though kept as composed as one could when faced with such a... Despicable being. It was impossible for the corrupted guardian to tell if he was internally shaken by his own rage or from the presence of purity radiating from the tree. "Your words fall deaf. Nothing you say will sway me. I... I am going to remain free."

A gentle shake of the head was all that Millennial gave in response, though his reason expanded as he drew further towards the corroded embodiment of wind. "Words may not sway you, yet I know your memories will not lead you astray. You have harmed that poor custodian, have you not?" The sound Night Raven had given upon hearing that- a scornful 'tch' at himself- certainly gave the Tree a sign that his dear guardian had not fallen too far from grace. "They were in pain due to your antics, and nearly lost everything. If you call this your 'freedom', then why must it restrict others so harshly?"

"I was freeing them. And you brought them back to their brainwashed state of nothing more than a slave." Though, based upon the shot that had gotten lodged into a branch a far distance from Millennial, perhaps his reasoning wasn't as sound as he thought it was. He had harmed his sibling, hadn't he? Yet, here he stands as someone righteous...

By now, the distance had closed, nothing more than a few feet between the two. Even so, the Raven kept his bow drawn, even if it began to tremble at the presence before him. A gentle hand was set upon his head, one that brought forth a familiar feeling that bore itself into the archer's heart and mind. His wings stiffened, apprehension leading to a shot that not even he intended to hit, yet-

"Ah..." Millennial Tree's reaction was dull, as if the shot to his chest was nothing more than a scratch. "I suppose you were serious, hmm? I underestimated your will to go against me, then. What a disappointing thought." Though poison had struck itself into his body, the flow of purity that had settled upon Night Raven refused to cease. If anything, it felt... It felt as if it was being rushed into his system. The deep colors of plum to sangria gently receding to their lighter, grassy shades. "My Tree, what..." The archer's words spoke breathless, feeling the conflict within his body strain his mind and pull away his ability to speak as pure and poison fought for their sides within his body.

"Hush, hush..." The Millennial Tree shushed, humming as he continued to let the guardian of wind recieve all that he would need, and more... After all, he wouldn't be here much longer. "Heed this strength. Absorb all that you can, and fly yourself far..." Such strained wings found themselves folding in as the words spoken barely made it across. "...for the sake of the forest, I will not let you go this way. I may not last forever, but help will be imperative for you to receive. After all," A gentle laugh came from the Tree as his hand lowered, gently pressing upon the dazed archer's shoulder.

(Inspired by @spoopydoodle's Post)

Milk finds himself upon the precipice of choice. To his side, stuck in rubble, is the accused Strawberry Jam Sword, the same weapon used against his best friend Purple Yam in the heat of battle. Before him lies Yam, heavily injured and heaving breath after breath. Obscuring Milk's view is Dark Choco himself, who's weapon was knocked away in a last ditch effort.

"You insolent-!" The former prince growls. His eyes aflame with a thirst for vengence, he throws his hand back in an attempt to call his blade back to him. "I'm ending this... Right now!" Hand splayed, rage prominant- If given the chance, that blade would very well kill Yam if he wouldn't already pass from blood loss alone.

The blade shook, attempting to tug itself from the rubble. Milk looked on, thoughts racing through his mind as the ruin would surely sooner than later. He reached, yet hesitated. Such violence wouldn't be his way of choice, but if he refused to adapt, then Yam... Yam would...

Purple Yam, as stubborn as he was, didn't deserve to die here. Milk himself had been stubborn, wailing, "I'll do everything in my power to keep you from hurting him!" The healer still remembers the moments before they waltzed right into this battle. "Look, just be careful, idiot!" It wasn't often that the brute would show concern, but each time Milk was addressed for his words of sticking up for the 'Kingdom's Strongest Swordman', he had become more and more worried for the healer. "Don't get yourself hurt for his sake. Look after yourself!"

"You're the one that matters here. You're the hero here." That voice of Yam's was his motivation. His will to continue on his faithful path, the path of what he sought as right.

With a snarl, Dark Choco waved his hand once more. Why had his blade not returned to him. This was nothing but infuriating for him. "Stupid swo-" He'd start, and abruptly stop. Behind him stood someone who he barely recognized. Yes, it was still the child he'd saved so long ago, and yet...

"Dark Choco..." Milk's voice, far below it's typical gentle nature, felt as if it was eminating from someone else. The blade gleamed and flared with power, engulfing the floor by Milk's feet and encapulating his hands. Bitter crimson surrounded the very essence of the curer, ensnaring his soul. He could feel the blade's influence, but he knew what must be done. He knew who he must strike down.

Looking up from the blade, Milk's eyes shone with renewed determination. A glimmer of reddened hope through his dirtied white garments.

Bow drawn, eyes blinded, target still... The seeker of truth, Night Raven, had finally found his chance. Staring down from the highest point on Temple of Millennial Tree, adjusting his aim ever so slightly, a huff was let out. Laced with crimson poison just as he'd been blessed with, his arrow would surely put an end to that accursed tree. A purification ritual on a centaur? To Raven, this was nothing more than brainwashing. That poor soul would be saved soon enough.

Beneath his covered eyes, he narrowed to adjust his aim once more... And let the arrow fly. The end of the deity, surely, would befall the filthy excuse for someone 'holy'. Birds flew, branches shook, and yet... The target wasn't reached. From the freed archer's ears, the arrow had pierced flesh, not bark. Unfortunate, but still useful. He lowered his bow, standing silently and taking in the reprocussions of his actions.

Below, Raven could spy the tree and the centaur, the centaur pierced through their stomach and the tree in shock. It wasn't long until the Millennial noticed precisely what was occuring, and rather than staying to help, he made a break to escape. 'Cowardly as always,' Night Raven thought, 'leaving the guardians to suffer rather than helping them with his power.'

With a beat of his wings, the archer took to the air, only to swiftly glide down to the grassy floor, and take a closer look at the individual he had injured. No blood, just... A mix of purple and crimson flowing through the centaur's body, seeping toward through viens and arteries. Fig- that was their name, yes?- was all but alright. Panicked, pained, and trembling at the very sight of Night Raven. They sputtered that they didn't want to be hurt, covering their 'wound' with one hand while the other reached out in defense to Raven's danger.

"Worry not, child of the tree." Raven's voice spoke low, near silent, like the whisper of the wind itself. The familiarity gave Fig chills, so much so it weakened their legs... Or was it the arrow and whatever it was doing to them? "Scarlet will flow through you soon. You will no longer have to worry about following the deity that will do nothing to aid you. You will be free."

In thier confusion, Fig was given only seconds to react as the arrow that had been shot into them was grabbed and torn from their body. There was a yelp from the poor centaur as their legs gave out, pain coursing over them...

...and the petting that they recieved upon their head sickening them, yet- yet it still held a tinge of comfort they couldn't deny.

"Dear Fig, thou who was stuck being nothing more than a custodian... Allow the power of scarlet to release you, and may you rise as someone free of control and inhibitions..."

The moonlight had not shined through for what felt to be eons. The sliver of light and gentle joy Blueberry Pie waited endlessly for the ray of blessings to flow its way into the archives. Even now, her hopes to see the moonlight again were fading.

Standing before where the moon once shared its solace with her, Blueberry clutched her tome close, feeling it's desire to brust forth and cause a havoc of the organized tomes that she had spent so very long ensuring their correct placement.

Doubts clouded her mind. She knew it was simply the tome attempting to break her, as it always had. Yet, instead of coming to rampage to try and ruin it physical form, it aimed elsewhere. It aimed precisely for where she had grown weakened. The archive's protector could not help but express a fleeting look of fright. If the sweet, gentle hold of the moon's reflection never returned, she would have no reason to continue in her solace.

The shelves surrounding her melted into what she felt to be imprisoning bars. Blueberry took a step back from the bookcase by her side, nearly a stumble as she watched her home appear more and more akin to a place of captivity.

'How lonely it must be, trapped here with all these tomes.' The librarian, shaken by the sudden familiar voice, looked down to her tome. 'Not a soul to appriciate you, nor even visit you. All because of a stupid, long forgotten promise those wizards never kept.' Blueberry huffed, the edges of the book digging into her hands as frustration welled. It was unknown to her if this was caused by the book's words or her own forsaken agreement to them.

The book rattled and shook in her hands, yet she wouldn't let go, no matter how forcefully the crimson glow pried into her mind. 'The Wizards had broken their promise and disappeared from the world. You broke your own promise to never read us accursed sealed pages of literature on a moonless night, so do you intend on disappearing just like them?'

Blueberry Pie shook her head, breathing strong as her composure was being prodded. She didn't wish to disappear- No one would wish that! No one in their right mind, anyways...

'Then listen, and listen close...' The librarian's gaze affixed itself to the tome. Her grip loosened ever so much, and the tome popped right open. It was difficult to tell whether the action was purposeful or accidental. From the cursed book, a scarlet and voided snake-like shadow slithered its way right out of the pages to face the one that held them. The overwhelming saturation of the creature was far more inviting than the dulled colors of the trap she called her residence. 'Let us break the promise of the archives and go free.'

Blades swiftly crossed paths with one another, clashing and resonating out across the field. Each step taken another push or fall from victory. White didn't care much for honor, but with what she percieved as 'passion' from her rival, how could she refuse? Another bout of fencing was always a joy to have.

Raspberry Mousse had been training day in and day out just for the chance that he could prove himself after a humiliating defeat... Even making a deal that he possibly should not have. His desperation at victory shined bright in this battle, his actions snappy and filled with malice rather than a desire to have a 'fun' competition. Each jab towards White Choco felt more like a stab than a strike, only given more force by that look of gleaming red in his eyes.

No matter how many attacks White had blocked, she could feel her grace start to falter the longer this battle drew on. Though kept to herself, the fact that Mousse was nothing but aggressive sparked fear. If she were not careful, he could very well harm her, and not just her pride.

The Raspberry-handled blade shinned a brilliant red as White so much as made a stumble, narrowly knocking her onto her hind end. There was the contemplation of forfeit, but there was no way she would do so in front of Mousse. He always did say it was the coward's way out. And, as toxic as the representative of House Raspberry was, she had to agree on some front.

This duel had turned into a battle of survival for White. The frustration of her lasting only brought her opponent grow in blazing frustration. His way his eyes gleamed as his sabre was slashed, how starved he was for victory. For once in her life, her breath was shaken by such force brought against her.

And, unfortunately, through her.

How Raspberry had pierced her armor was beyond her, but it filled her with a pain she had never experienced in all her years as a knight. She tried to remain steadfast, stand as the sabre was removed from her stomach, yet her body quickly gave out and left her on her knees.

She could hear laughter, the type heard by a madman- or a villain who had finally disposed of their nemesis. She- she shouldn't have taken this duel- she should have surrendered- sh-she should-

(Part 1 of Cinnamon and the Azure Staff)

Humming to themself in delight, the little child of snow was building a snowman as they did each day they spent alone. There wasn't an inch of snow on the ground, but the power of magic defied the need for it. The snowman itself wasn't exactly built properly, it held the vague look of one, but it looked as if it was made by a person working without sight. The carrot wasn't even anywhere close the button eyes.

"Oooh Snowyyyyy~!" A chipper, familiar voice rang, and Snow Sugar didn't hesitate for a moment to turn to the sound they heard. Right, their older brother, back from the library just as he promised! "Cinna!" They chirped, pointing to their creation with their staff. "Look! Look! I made this for when you'd come back! I tried to make it look like you!"

It looked nothing like Cinnamon, but they were basing it off of memories from years and years ago, so they can't exactly be blamed for all the discrepancies. "That's... Nice." Is all the magician could utter as he approached his little sibling, the little one following by the sound of footsteps alone.

Staff alight in his hand, it was melting away the figure just by standing close, though Snowy didn't seem to notice anything but the heat. "I know, right? But uh- brother-... You're making it quite hot. Did you learn some fire magic or something? It's- it's not very comfortable..."

Cinnamon mumbled to himself, the heat growing more intense as the snowman melted further. The staff of his pointed down upon it, there was a curious hum before he turned to Snow Sugar. His expression was fueled by concern. "You used your magic to make this, right? As always? It's melting easier than usual."

This remark caused Snow Sugar to whimper and look to the ground. "I-I know! I'm... Still trying to recover from Wiz... And that- that heat isn't helping... What even is it?" This heat felt like it was melting Snowy themself, though they didn't speak anything of it.

"Something to protect you. From anything and everything." This didn't help Snowy's discomfort. The way they looked, holding themselves and keeping their face away from him... It hurt Cinnamon's heart. "I can't exactly get rid of it, now, so we're stuck with this..." Regret was prominant in his voice, though Snowy once again grew silent. No response, only a small thrum coming through.

Shaking his head, Cinna gave an attempt to raise the mood. "But, hey, thanks to this new magic, we don't have to deal with Wizzy anymore!"

"C-Cinna, wait. You- You didn't..."

"He got what he deserved. He took your sight, so I took a bit more."

...

Lance to sword, two knights faced each other. At a standstill, blades interlocked, the two found time for their pre-battle banter to continue.

"Why did you take up your blade against us? Don't you remember who you're supposed to serve? Your path of righteousness is being blocked, and going further may lead to disaster!" Pistachio nearly growled, trying to prevent the nostalgia of all the loving gestures Dark Choco gave cross her mind.

The weapons trembled between the forces that held them against each other. Gazing past, Dark Choco could see the weak desperation behind that stolid, strong front she always gave. "I have already passed disaster. This I cannot return from. This blade is what I am stuck to serve, and you arriving here only endangers you more."

The clash broke, sending Pistachio back. Her armor rattled as she attempted to regain her balance, which normally she could have done with ease. This, however, was no normal circumstances. With a crash of crimson lightning that shook the ground, the holy knight quickly lost her balance and fell to a kneel. And yet, Dark Choco did not attack. He remained steadfast, blade held in his hands glowing with that purely corrupted, ominous red.

"I can no longer adhere to the heroic nature I- I once held." Dark Choco's voice wavered. It was but a moment, but it was a streak of white in what was a blackened plain of corrosion. "No longer can I follow the same path of your's. Whatever affections you or any of the others held for me, I implore you to give in to hopelessness and move on from me."

Another lightning strike crashed into the ground, and Pistachio could feel something swell in her chest. Was this... Fear? Despair? No, she couldn't dare feel such. And yet, as the dark knight's words continued, the way the aura of decaying hope surrounded him... Was there no way to repair him? Repair the one who offered her his hand, the one who attentively shined her armor for her, the one who helped her train to become as strong as she was? This can't be...