Rhaia the Mourned Lore: Official Story
‘She was the first to take me in and hear my words. Many Sylvan nobles insisted that had I been anything other than an Elf, they would have had me killed at their border. Rhaia was kind and warm. Still otherworldly, like every other being of the Mistwood; an Elf yet so different from Aravians. She cared for our plight with treacherous Kaerok. She saw potential in uniting Elves of Anhelt and Peltas. We planned together an address to the Sylvan Court itself! Then the Corruption came. Rhaia was made a most terrible monster. She was my friend. Now I must destroy her.’
The region of the Mistwood ruled by Rhaia was a verdant paradise even by the standards of the Mistwood. Flush with flora and fauna of unimaginable variety, it was a haven not just for Elves but also for a great many Fae. The grass was softer than Aravian silk, the crystal-clear water healing and fortifying, and the birdsong could bring hardened warriors to tears.
Rhaia was the conductor and enabler of it all, her love of the Mistwood surpassed only by care for her people. She was no soft-heart, however. Her ability to nurture such a wondrous ecosystem was matched by her ability to maneuver through the complex politics of the Sylvan Court without compromising on what mattered most to her. For all her talents, natural authority and wisdom, few commanded as much respect as Rhaia.
When she heard the Corruption had burst in her lands, Rhaia immediately ordered the muster of every warrior, and sent messengers to warn every leaf-village and bough-settlement. She herself took up arms and that very day culled her first Corrupted.
Sadness and despair wrenched her heart as she saw once resplendent ponds turned into sucking, bubbling pools of crimson pitch, or once-glorious trees strangled with pulsating red vines, their every branch broken and twisted. The sight did not make her cry. She fought.
For a time, no one doubted that Rhaia’s tireless efforts would see the Sylvan victorious. Then she fell, her Rhythm becoming intertwined with that of the Corruption. Her eyes and veins turned blood red. Reaching, grasping, wriggling crimson tentacles and feelers entwined her headdress, bodice, and weapons.
The Corruption’s spread doubled after that, Rhaia’s own Corrupted Rhythm disrupting the natural Rhythm all around her with a sickening dissonance. Were it not for her son, Folan Silverhart, who fought on, the whole domain would have swiftly fallen. When Folan Silverhart himself succumbed, hope all but turned to ash. Talenna Soulseer and Vallaryn the Equalizer have a desperate plan, and that is it.
Everyone thinks Rhaia is lost. No one knows flickers of her old self remain, like fragments of a long-decayed tome. Flashes of emotion, words of incomplete thoughts. Not enough to fight back with. Enough to know what she had become, and what horrors she was inflicting, the Corruption strong enough for her to feel the desire to kill and destroy.