Last of The Fae

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"Oh, come on. We've known each other for more than five thousand years. I know you know my name!" The fae exclaimed, seemingly angry, but a massive grin split his face. 

Magala snorted, flattening the moss in front of him, "I should have scorched your race from this planet before they discovered the mystic arts." 

Despite being threatened, the Fae continued to smile, "Come on, if you did that, who would keep you entertained over all these years?" 

"Are you so eager to lose another limb?" Magala asked, still growling, seemingly one taunt away from lunging at the Fae. 

"They always grow back. Besides, I've been experimenting and finally came up with something that I think can get through even your thick hide." The fae replied as an intense battle lust spilled from his body, and he grinned, revealing pointed teeth. 

Magala huffed, "Unlikely." 

The Fae's battle lust only intensified at the challenge, "Wanna find out?" 

Before Magala could respond, an aura spread through the basin like a physical weight clogging the air with its immensity. But instead of being oppressive, the aura was a soothing balm that nourished and nurtured. At once, every plant in the basin suddenly came alive, experiencing years, possibly decades, of growth in a matter of seconds. 

"Enough, you two, there will be no conflict today. Especially after what happened the last time Ithariel decided to test out a new spell." The voice that spoke was soft and feminine, with an omnipresence as it seemed to originate from the air itself. 

Ithariel shrugged, "I think things look better now; having all the land in one place was a bit boring." 

Magala turned to stare at the world tree whose branches swayed in a nonexistent breeze, "Yggdrasil, you speak; I was unsure if you still possessed the capacity to do so. Your presence has been weakening throughout the realm." 

Despite his best efforts, Magala's voice was filled with a twinge of worry, showing how grave the situation was. 

Ithariel nodded in agreement, "My people have felt it as well; unrest is spreading like a plague." 

"I am dying." 

The statement was made with such casualty that it silenced Ithariel and Magala in an instant as they attempted to register the gravity of what Yggdrasil had said. 

"Dying!" Ithariel exclaimed as he shot to his feet, and his hair was whipped into a frenzy as mana exploded from his body, "That isn't possible!" 

"Without you, magic will cease to exist," Magala stated, his reptilian eyes narrow, "How are you, a spirit of pure mana, struggling with mortality?" 

"Nothing is eternal, but I do not speak of death with the finality that those of flesh and blood fear. I will enter a remission, a dormancy, not in a singular moment; it is a gradual process, one the two of you have already begun to feel." Yggdrasil responded, its voice still monotone and almost uncaring, "One day I will return, but it will be eons from now, and I am uncertain what the world will look like. That is why I have called on the two of you." 

Ithariel and Magala's postures straightened as if ready to bear the weight of the responsibility placed upon their shoulders. 

"Magala, Autarch Of Beasts, and Ithariel, King of Beings, you two are both the origin and pinnacles of your respective races, singularities that will never grace this realm again. While my roots may disperse mana through the realm, it is you who keep order. You are far too valuable to lose to time." Yggdrasil spoke with such gravity that the very air stopped and listened. 

"Death is unavoidable," Ithariel replied, "You said so yourself." 

"Indeed, but there are some things that not even death can touch, "Yggdrasil said. 

"You speak of the soul," Magala spoke up with a contemplative growl, "The source of our mana and the bulwark that contains the total sum of our beings." 

Ithariel frowned, "What would you have us do?" 

"We would merge, being, beast, and spirit combined into a singular entity. When I am ready to return from my dormancy, our collective soul will be pulled from whatever purgatory that houses those have passed on and returned to this physical realm. Reborn, a prophet and messiah to usher in a new age." Yggdrasil proclaimed, only to be met with absolute silence. 

For what seemed like an eternity, neither Magala nor Ithariel spoke, contemplating the consequence, for better or for worse, of the proposition Yggdrasil had just laid before them. 

"Hmmm, very well," Magala spoke up first, his scaled face set with grim determination, "If it is to preserve the lifeblood of all magical entities, I submit myself to this duty." 

Ithariel sighed and scratched the back of his head, but there was no levity in his dark green eyes, "I suppose I've had enough fun in this lifetime goofing around." 

"You will remain to live out the rest of your vitality. However, I do not know what will become of your physical forms," Yggdrasil replied as its trunk began to creak as the wood opened, revealing a hollowed chamber in which sat a woman; her skin was a vibrant green and slightly translucent with a head of vines that floated around her like a shield, and she opened her eyes to reveal pure orbs of cyan light that gazed at Magala and Ithariel who stared back at her in wonder, "Words can not express my gratitude. While this story may be passed down through time, none will know the true extent of your sacrifice." 

"It is our honor," Magala and Ithariel replied before their bodies flooded with mana and the air filled with harmony as their magic sang. 

Magala spread his wings before burying them into the ground, which flooded with his mana. The earth heaved and cracked as pillars of glowing crystalline metal erupted into the air, forming a massive ring almost a thousand meters across. Meanwhile, Ithariel shot into the air to hover in the center, clasping his hands together before slowly pulling them apart. A tiny singularity burst into existence between his palms, a glowing star that started to expand slowly at first but quickly picked up speed. 

In a matter of moments, the tiny speck of light was larger than Ithariel himself, who thrust his hands up, sending the light into the air, which continued to grow. As the sphere expanded, the details of its design were revealed, circles upon circles with countless runes and symbols inlaid within them spinning and orbiting around each other, flipped on an axis and offset by the slightest degrees so the massive ritual appeared to be a solid sphere. 

Yggdrasil then floated out of her hallow towards the ritual. When it was within reach, Yggdrasil extended her arm and gingerly touched the mass of runes and circles. The bright cyan lines surged with power as they exploded in size and turned from a bright shade of blue to a deep, verdant green. 

In the center of the ritual, a condensed ball of mana form sang out with its note before it shot out a beam of light, which split each branch, homing on a pillar. As the beams of pure mana struck the metal pillars, the energy was absorbed and contained in its entirety without decay or loss. 

Pulling his wings from the ground, Magala rose into the air with a singular flap, joining Ithariel and Yggdrasil, who maneuvered to form a triangle centered around the rapidly spinning formation whose radiance now rivaled the sun. 

As the harmony began to crescendo, each supreme entity closed its eyes as something emerged from their chests. Three tiny spheres of pure white light gently floated through the air toward the ritual, eventually passing through the countless rings of mana and arriving in the very center. 

The three souls began to spin slowly, orbiting an invisible point, gradually gaining speed. Before long, they had become a singular ring of white light that hummed, adding to the harmony as if finally reaching its climax. 

With a final exclamation, the entire ritual collapsed as the pillars of store mana fed back into the formation, providing the immense energy required for fission. A shockwave ripped through the air, cutting clear through the mountain and sending countless tons of earth soaring into the air, which began their long descent back down to the world below. 

All that was left hovering in the air was a single orb of light covered in a dense network of glowing green ruins. A form manifested from midair, first as a glowing outline before growing bones, skin, and muscle. 

When the form was fully conjured, it revealed a naked Fae, covered in glowing silver tattoos the same color as Magala's scales and in the shape of vines the same as Yggdrasil's hair.