“The forest is ancient and prudent. Brute force and aggression will not sway the trees to do your bidding. Even a mahjarrat of your calibre cannot force an elder tree against its will.” Arweinydd replied.

Raazik hissed at displeasure of the elf’s mocking statement, gripping the staff once more and pulling with great force. Again, the staff refused to move, remaining stubbornly lodged within the tree’s thick trunk.

“Very well. Perhaps witness of compassion and patience might teach you of their virtue.” The elf spoke in a gentle but stern tone. “Stand aside.”

The mahjarrat begrudgingly stood back, allowing the elf space to relinquish the staff from its grip; but not too far, as not to be able to strike the elf from behind, should his promise of the staff fall to falsehoods. Arweinydd lent down to the tree, placing his grip at the bottom of the staff and his other hand on the trunk of the tree. The clear water poured from the base of the staff, trickling down the bark and into the pool below. In ancient elven tongue he spoke gently and slowly to the tree, yearning it to surrender its hold. It groaned in response to his rhythmic words, and Arweinydd pulled on the staff. It did not budge. Again he tried, and again it held firm.

“Fascinating.” The elf queried, clearly bemused by persistence of the staff.

Raazik roared with anger, his patience finally expired. He lunged forward smashing his great weight against Arweinydd’s and gripping the top of the staff once more.

“Enough of this deception and delay! If the tree will not release my staff then I shall burn it where it stands, and pluck my weapon from its ashes!” 

Arweinydd toppled slightly, under the tremendous pressure of the mahjarrat’s assault, before quickly regaining his balance with swift elven agility. His hand still held firmly at the base of the staff. Where the majarrat and elf’s hands grasped the staff, brilliant light burst forward igniting the clearing in a flash of white. Black lightning travelled up and down the staff between the two hands, filling the air with a bitter-sweet metallic taste. Bright white and dark black auroras danced across the surface of the pool, which glowed with a deep blue hue, and up the trunk of the tree before meeting and entwining around the base of the staff.

Suddenly, the tree released it. The weight of the elf and the mahjarrat pulling the ancient staff from its embrace, sending them both flying backwards and into the thick carpet of lush grass and wild flowers behind. As the staff parted from the tree, the spectacular display was quenched leaving only the dull afterglow within the waters of the pool. Arweinydd rose, still dazed by the event. He turned to Raazik who was himself rising from his fall and brushing the soil from his robes. The ancient staff lay on the grass between them, glowing with purple energy and free from its primeval hold.