Chapter 4: The Sacrifice
In that split second, Torak acted. He stepped between Aritzaga and the entity, raising his shield. The impact threw him back, but his interference gave Aritzaga the opening she needed. She raised her hands, channeling the full force of her druidic power, enveloping the spirit in a cocoon of natural energy.
With a shuddering wail, the creature’s form melted away, leaving only a faint wisp of light floating before her. She extended her hand, allowing the spirit to settle into her palm, feeling its residual pain and regret. For a moment, she held it close, whispering words of comfort, before releasing it back into Azeroth’s natural flow.
Exhausted, Aritzaga turned to Torak, who lay battered but alive. He looked up at her, his gaze filled with newfound respect.
“You spared it,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Why?”
She knelt beside him, her eyes thoughtful. “Sometimes, understanding can heal wounds violence cannot. That spirit… it reminded me of what I could become if I let bitterness consume me.”
Torak nodded slowly, his expression contemplative. “Perhaps we are not so different, you and I.”
Together, they left the ruins, the corruption slowly receding behind them, leaving Ashenvale to reclaim its serenity.