Terraria was a land of monsters and magic.  On the surface, it was a landscape of grass and a promise of death.  It only changes in small bits here and there by forces with malicious intent.  It was called Corruption and Crimson, both very deadly for any unprepared Terrarian who found his way into the hostile zones.  But creatures meant for killing roamed even the most peaceful reaches of Terraria regardless of these vile landscapes.  The whole world was a death trap for anything wanting to live longer than an hour.  

But that wasn’t the most pressing concern for most Terrarians.  When night fell, so did the most horrible of monsters.  First come the legions of undead, and then the eyes of great demons appear to kill a Terrarian who is without a home.  And during a particular night where the moon is red, they barge into homes and destroy all life inside.  If you were to travel too high, you’d be attacked by harpies.  And the enemies just get stronger the deeper you dig.

But these are just simple things in the lives of Terrarians.  Death is natural, and they’ve mastered it by learning how to reconstitute their bodies at in specific locations, like of where they were born.  Some Terrarians were born in homes, some in the open landscape, but most died from running so long that their time of youth finally ran out and succumbed to natural causes.  A reconstitution of a body too old and frail to fully regenerate at home is what destroyed the Terrarians.

Even then, there were a few survivors who were able to stand the test of time and eventually become so powerful that they challenged all of Terraria's monsters and claimed victory.  In fact, one of them was looking over Terraria right now.  But only one.  No others managed to loot the armor of frost giants.  No others found so many pieces of keys and mastered ancient, sealed magic.  No other had the ability to set things on fire with frozen flames.  No other had the used the shells of the strongest mammals, and ore of the strongest mineral to create a layer of armor so thick that even the sharpest claw or strongest maw can crack.

He stood over the edge of a cloud layer as he looked down on the world.  He’d built a fortress in the skies above the hostile ground, but low enough so he could get to it with the wings he forged from ghostly remains and away from harpies that lived in the high clouds above.  Those Terrarians that he could save were inside the sky fortress, made of grey brick.  But he stood just on the edge of the platform made of cloud looking down and unmoving.

He was truly the most capable of beings in Terraria, but not the strongest.  There were entities out there that wanted to destroy all of creation, and he let them free.  The mechanical menace seemed to hang over the minds of all who feared death.  Even the cozy safe zone in the sky wasn’t enough to keep this evil at bay.  Even the most powerful weapon wasn’t able to defeat all of the monsters that now threatened the lives of his friends.  

He contemplated his next move, the choice he was now faced with.

“Are you still thinking about your decision?” asked a feminine voice.

It originated from behind the ice-blue armored man.  He turned around to face one of the goods salesmen that found their way to his home.  They charged him for items of course, but the bonds of friendship were forged out of harder times and numerous attempts by monsters to slay them all.  The particular shop keeper that appeared in the brick doorway was one he knew for a long time now…well; she was more of a nurse.

“Jenna?” asked the iced man.  His wings flared slightly when he noticed Jenna in the doorway.  

His surprise came from the fact she never had anything else to say to him other than questions regarding his health.  Sometimes she doubled as a counselor as she found a way into the personal lives of nearly every merchant and trader in the home.  She was wearing her standard nurse’s outfit.

“I came here just in time it seems,” she told him unamused. “That blow must've hit you harder than every claw mark and bullet wound I’ve treated so far.  Are you sure you’re ok, honey?”  she asked in her typical motherly voice.

The ghostly wings on the Terrarian in question twitched slightly, and he looked back over the horizon.  The sun was beginning to fall in front of him, coloring the sky in an orange hue.

“Yeah.  It’s just hard to take in,” he replied with an empty lie.  It was easy for him to understand, but he just didn’t want to go through with it. “You’re all relying on me to save you, to protect you.  Then help me with healing myself or giving me tools to help me defeat threats.  Now…” he paused.

It took a moment for Jenna to realize he wasn’t going to speak up again.  She took initiative and decided to speak her mind.

“You’re not the only one who’ll be losing something.  We’ve all agreed to be part of it, to give you our-”

“I know, I know.  But I’m considering fighting these new foes.  I know it’s futile, but I have to find a way to destroy them to keep us from making this decision,” he interrupted her in an almost desperate tone.

Jenna was about to say something, but stopped herself and thought deeply.  She then said something that the Terrarian had been running from since the decision was made. “If you knew how to destroy them, you would have left us to do just that,” Jenna added intelligently.

The armored Terrarian dared not look her in the eye as he knew it was the truth.  He was silently thankful he was still looking at the horizon.  If he felt he could win, he would run from this decision.  But he’s smarter than that and he only stood on the edge of the world because he was waiting for a revelation to keep him from doing something that could rewrite history.

So he stayed silent.

“I know what’s going through your head.  You may have been away most of the time, but I know you better than anyone here.  But you’re not the one in the spot light; you’re just on the stage with the rest of us,” she scolded him.  “You just happen to be the best actor.”  She stopped and let her words sink in.

“Yeah, I guess this isn’t so much of my choice as it is all of yours,” he replied.  “I’m sorry, and I think I’m ready.”  He slowly turned around.  “Let’s destroy the world,” he said with more confidence.

“That’s the spirit!” Jenna replied as she quickly turned around and marched into the bright corridor.

The fully armored Terrarian found little comfort in her excitement and stood up silently.  His movements were dramatized with a cold mist falling off his armor as he moved each limb.  He turned around and faced the way Jenna left him.  She was still in his sight when he decided to follow after her.  When he got to the doorway he saw Jenna take a right at the end of the corridor.  He walked impatiently and strode into the room with heavy steps.

But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the birth child of copper gears and an oak tree prison that awaited him.  It was a hollowed out tree in the shape of a giant seed with roots that darkened the ceiling of the room.  Plastic tubes run alongside these roots with green gel running through them.  It had an opening near the entrance just big enough for any Terrarian to get inside.  

To the Terrarian’s left was a dryad, with an assortment of leaves for clothes and grass green hair that was tied up into a ponytail.  Her eyes were brown, contrary to the rest of her clothing and her naturally preferred color of green.  She eyed the seed-like trunk with a look of deep contemplation.  Her brow was furrowed as she walked up to the tree and touched it with her open palm; back facing the open doorway.  The trunk began to thicken and then crack until it fell away for a thin membrane to take its place.  The whole tree looked like fleshy remains of an animal that was made of bark.  Only with a few strange steampunk devices attached to it.  

“Shea,” he said remorsefully.

The person in question was the Dryad, and at the mention of her name she turned toward the source of the voice.  Her eyes rested on the armored Terrarian and she smiled sadly.  The armored Terrarian looked into her eyes, and for a moment they didn’t say a thing.  Both knowing what the other’s decision was and what was about to happen.

“You’re ready now?” asked Shea the Dryad.

“Yes,” responded the armored Terrarian.

“Now hang on a minute!” came a tomboyish voice, “Brass and Iron can only do so much!” Said the feminine voice angrily.

The voice brought the attention of all the three Terrarians to a location behind the large oak tree.  Jenna cocked her head to the right slightly.  She began to worry if she’d have to apply medical attention to the Terrarian behind the tree any time soon.  The armored Terrarian just seemed confused while Shea looked absolutely mortified.  Obviously feeling whatever the tree was feeling.  The reason for Shea's expression became clear when there was a crackle of wood and then what followed was the sound of four tons of steel and bark crashing down on the floor.

The whole far side of the large oak tree seemed to tilt and creak like the ancient tall trees on the surface, but the creak was unwelcome, as what followed was an ear splitting noise of wood breaking.  Suddenly the thick layer of tubes and roots opened up to reveal the rest of the room above.  The Terrarian’s all looked up to avoid any falling debris, but their eyes locked onto what the roots hid.  

On the other side of the root wall were mossy covered wooden orbs with humanoid shapes inside.  Each orb had a membrane similar to the main pod that you could see through.  You could see each of the orbs was filled with green solution and had a relatively similar to the shape and size of each Terrarian inside. Depending on how large the Terrarian was, the orb was only two thirds their height. But all were distinctly similar to the large seed pod at the bottom of the large oak tree.  Only covered in moss and plastic pipes.

Shea held her hand close to her mouth in shock. “C-Cynthia?” she asked unsteadily.

“Consarnit Shea!” exclaimed the voice of Cynthia. “We’re leaking green solution and losing pressure!  Can yah plug up them holes with the tree?” she asked urgently.

“O-oh of course!” Shea replied, unsure of herself.  

She held out her hand and the whole tree started to move.  Out of shock, Jenna and the armored Terrarian backed away from the tree that moved like an animal.  As this happened, green fluid started to drizzle down from ruptured pipes and run down the roots of the tree to its main body.  The roots that had green fluid running down them bent and twisted to cover and overgrow the broken plastic tubes.  

“All righty, now that that’s settled.” Cynthia added confidently.

The sound of scrap pipes and wood scraping together gave them an indication that Cynthia was moving out from behind the oak tree.  As Cynthia moved around the large tree her feet stepped in green solution that already escaped the pipes.  Cynthia stepped out into view and gave Shea an irritated glare.  Her top hat was a darker shade from being splashed in the solution from the pipes, and her aviator outfit seemed soaked on one side.  She was mostly wet on her left side from her sleeves to her boots, and both of her sleeves were soaked with solution which indicated she protected her face with her arms.  

“We gotta talk about your trees and mah pipes!” she exclaimed to Shea.  “I work best wit brass pipes runnin’ solution from one place tah the next.” She crossed her arms and glared daggers at Shea. “I build engines that need-now get this!-NEED to be stationary or tha’ whole thing’ll go kaput!” Her anger seemed suppressed considering who she was talking too. “Now can yah please stiffin’ the tree up so ah don’t hafta be gentle puttin’ mah machines in it?”

Shea looked unsure. “I’m sorry Cynthia, but I need to keep the tree alive.  And we need to work with different materials to keep it alive.” she countered.

Cynthia looked upset. “An’ I told you that we need to make sacrifices!  I still agree with usin’ plastic pipes!” she shot back, her voice raised. “But ya’ll’re gunna need to give me a surface to work on!  Ah’m no magic wizard like that Ningauble character!  An about that, why ain’t he in one o’ mah pods yet?” She asked irritably.

Shea looked slightly upset. “They’re my pods, and Ningauble is going to be in a different pod.  He needs to bring knowledge of Terrarian magic to the races of the new world!”

“There ain’t gunna be a new world if yer not gunna hold my machines in place!” Cynthia said in a more aggravated tone.

“Stop bickering!” interrupted Jenna.

Cynthia and Shea both jumped in surprise from the sudden voice.  Cynthia was more surprised by Jenna’s voice because she didn’t seem to notice either of the other two visitors.  Jenna’s brow was furrowed and her arms were crossed.  She tapped her foot disapprovingly while giving both Cynthia and Shea a scolding frown that a mother would give her kids when they’ve done something wrong.

“I’m going to be the next one in one of those pods,” Jenna softly added. “I don’t want you two arguing about the machine while I’m powering it with my life energy.” Her tone turned cold. “Remember girls.  This is bigger than the both of you and our lives are in your hands.  You’d better grow up and figure this out before I’m going in this thing,” she finished defiantly.

Cynthia and Shea looked at each other with blank expressions.  They then gave each other a soft frown before they moved closer to each other and spread their arms apart.  They wrapped their arms around each other in a forgiving hug.

Shea spoke up. “I’ll make a place where you can nail your machines to the trunk.” She relented.

“Thank you… weed tits,” whispered Cynthia smugly.

“Gears for brains,” whispered Shea equally smugly.

They separated but Jenna didn’t look any more satisfied. “I heard that.” She glared at the two.

“Well this time we were bein’ friendly,” Cynthia replied.  She then looked at the armored Terrarian. “Speakin’ a’ friendly.” She gave him a wink. “How ‘ave you been Lysander?  Ready to give me a goodbye kiss?” she playfully asked.

Lysander looked her in the eye and smiled under his helmet.  He was silently grateful that he wore a helmet as it hid his blush, and Cynthia would definitely tease him in her broken and inconsistent accent if she knew.  While Cynthia and Lysander talked, Jenna motioned for Shea to meet her over on the far corner of the room.

“You teasing me or are you for real this time?” Lysander replied halfheartedly.

“Oy, what’s wit’ja?” she asked with an uncertain expression. “Don’t tell me your still mopin’ about destroyin’ all evil and most a’ ya friends.  Yah haven’t done it yet!”

“I know, but how can you act so normal?  We’re all about to die,” Lysander countered depressingly.

A noise of wood breaking grabbed their attention.  Cynthia and Lysander looked over to the far side of the room where Jenna and Shea stood.  A pod had lowered down and opened up without them noticing.  It was drained of green liquid and a large hole in the side was present where bark has split apart.  There was a thick but flexible vine that attached to the top of the pod to keep it attached to the tree, and eventually would retract and pull the pod toward the others.

“You’re getting in now?” asked Lysander.

Jenna looked back at her with sad eyes. “Yes… I don’t want to wait any longer.” She looked at Lysander. “Oh and good luck,” she said with a warm smile.  

She got in the pod.  She sat down on the floor of the orb and pulled in her legs and held them close to her body.  Shea put her hand into the pod and reached for a place near the end of the vine that held it up.  She pulled down on something and a gas mask that was connected to a tube was then slowly placed on Jenna’s face.  After it was securely in place, Shea backed up and willed close the ripped open orb with her power over nature.  Cynthia and Lysander watched in amazement as the moss covered wooden orb self-sealed itself by quickly regenerating the gap until it was all one orb again.  

The instant the orb was fully sealed, the vine began to thicken as something went down it and into the orb.  Green solution was filling up the orb as it started flooding in through the ceiling.  Jenna was getting drenched first by the green solution before it settled at the bottom and slowly worked its way up.  The three onlookers didn’t get a chance to watch the process complete, as the pod began to rise from ground level up to the orchard of roots above.  In only a few short moments, the half-filled orb was gone and so was Jenna.  

“…Ok then,” Cynthia broke the silence unenthusiastically.  “Lysander, yer next to go.  We’re gunna need to make sure the main pod is able ta take your essence and magic before we git in ourselves.” She looked at Lysander with an unsure gaze.  “Well actually…” She paused. “I’m the last to go in other than Ningauble.  Speakin’ a’ which, have you seen that wizard?” she asked, looking around the room.

“What’s all that racket?” Came a withered voice from behind Lysander.

The three occupants turned to the doorway and saw the wizard in question who held an irritated look.  He had a purple robe that was so long that part of it dragged on the ground behind him.  It had white stars woven into the fabric so expertly that it looked like it was sown in when it was made.  His pointy wizard hat had a similar star pattern on it.  His long white beard gave a certain air of wisdom to him and his clothes looked weathered; like he’s been wearing them for most of his life.  His eyes landed on Lysander and his expression brightened.

“Nuxatk!  You’re looking as lively as ever!” he boomed in a cheerful tone before frowning. “Wait, weren’t you supposed to be in a pod by now?”  He said suspiciously.

Lysander smiled and then said in a raised voice. “No Ningauble, I’m Lysander, not Nuxatk!” He didn’t resent Ningauble for his terrible hearing and eyesight, no; he found it humbling for someone as old and wise as Ningauble to be at the mercy of old age.

“Oh Lysander?!” asked Ningauble with surprise. “Sorry about that, my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be,” he admitted sheepishly before looking at Shea expectantly. “Well we’re going to fix that with my new form, aren’t we?” He smiled.

Shea huffed sadly but gave him a warm smile. “Yes of course.  We’re going to need you to be alive and long lived to make sure your teachings are forever remembered.  As well as practiced,” she explained confidently.

“Well?  Let’s get started!” he said to Shea. “Where’s my pod?” he asked curiously looking up at the ceiling.

“Yours is still being developed,” Shea answered with a new tone of seriousness, “I’m not certain if I want to add any more features to it without your council.” She approached him.  She seemed more bold when speaking to him.  As if he spoke her language.

Ningauble looked back at Shea with a blank expression. “Then we’ll send Lysander in before Cynthia and I?”

Shea got to the door where he stood and proceeded to have an up close conversation with him.  She still held her voice up slightly so he could hear her clearly.  Her steps were soundless as they padded down on the muddy floor.  An occasional squish made itself known when her bare feet stepped in a small puddle formed out of Lysander’s boot imprint.

“Yes,” Shea responded with a slightly raised voice. “When they’re in the pod, we’ll discuss your role in the new world.” She looked down at the floor with her arms crossed. “But I won’t be able to join you when you’re released from it…” she added remorsefully.

“What did you say?  Speak up girl!  My ears aren’t what they used to be,” he said ruining the moment of Shea’s somber tone.

Shea huffed angrily and spoke up irritably, “I said, 'I won’t be able to join you when you’re out!'”

“Well you don’t have to shout!” he complained.  “I’m not that deaf!” His features softened. “But I assumed as much.” He said with a more controlled voice. “When you make the new world, be sure to give me a new name that will fit the new people who will inhabit it,” he said sagely.

Shea looked up at him with a questioning stare and a raised eyebrow.  Lysander and Cynthia watched them with questioning expressions as the two spoke with each other about future events.

“New people?” questioned Shea. “I know you understand we have to change your body to look like them, but what makes you think the people will be truly new and different?  They’ll have similar names to Terrarians.  And I doubt they’d call themselves people.  Maybe even have the same bodies as Terrarians,” Shea assured.

“No Shea,” he spoke with certainty. “They must adapt their own culture, and evolve their own way.  I know you have plans to make them strong warriors like Lysander, to defeat the most evil of forces.  But Terraria’s people fed that evil by resenting it, and letting it fester in their hearts.  The terrible weapons we forged allowed that evil to come back stronger…” He said with many years of wisdom behind him. “Let them live their own lives.  We’ll give them the tools to hold evil at bay.  But let’s not force them down the same road we were forced to go.”

Shea looked out the door and passed Ningauble, unable to meet his eyes with a disappointed frown.  She huffed irritably, and then looked him in the eye with a neutral gaze.  “I wasn’t going to take away their identity, Ningauble.  I was going to guide their culture so they’d adopt the same language as us.  And I know what caused those monsters to appear in our world better than anyone.  I wouldn’t let them make the same mistakes that we did.”  She then frowned and looked at him with an understanding gaze. “But you’re right about making them look like us.”

Ningauble looked surprised. “Oh?  Huh… well now that that’s settled!” he spoke jubilantly and looked to Lysander.  “No time like the present to be rid of all evil eh?” he asked, giving him a reassuring gaze.

Lysander smiled and Cynthia placed her hands around his right arm while leaning into his shoulder.  The gesture made him look at her questionably, but he thought nothing else of it.  Shea smiled and walked over to the large pod in the center of the room.  The muddy floor made imprints of her feet as she walked toward the center tree structure and gestured Lysander to follow her with her index finger.  Her flirtatious half lidded eyes made the idea of following her more enticing.  

Lysander didn’t react to her gesture as any other male would.  He’s been on the front line for far too long to preoccupy his thoughts with more domestic pursuits.  But as he went to follow her to the large pod specifically for him, he encountered a tug on his arm.  He looked back in confusion only to meet Cynthia’s roguish gaze.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his head down to her shoulder.  His sudden proximity to Cynthia’s face was surprisingly comfortable but he distracted himself by concentrating on the fact that Cynthia’s hand wasn’t frozen solid by his chilling armor yet.

Cynthia looked into his surprised eyes with jovial delight before gripping him tighter and looking toward Shea with a mischievous grin. “Now ah don’t did-ily care how much swagga your hips have, but Lysander is my boy toy, and you ain’t gunna tease him wit’ your leaf skin!” she exclaimed possessively.  Her mischievous smile reassured Lysander that she was just being her usual self.

Shea turned around and looked at Cynthia questionably before noticing her grin.  Shea shook her head disapprovingly but a hypocritical smile was plastered on her face.  She looked back up at Cynthia and was about to scold her before she noticed the longing look she was giving Lysander as he looked back at Shea with pleading eyes.  She instantly put on a façade and smiled equally as mischievously as Cynthia.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to chat while I go prep Lysander’s pod.  After all, he obviously loves you more than me,” she said in a mock-hurtful tone while folding her arms in defeat.

She walked away while swaying her hips teasingly.  She moved five feet with her swaying hips before stopping and walked normally over to the pod and waited patiently.  A short moment later Ningauble walked passed them, tipping his hat toward Lysander ever so slightly and briskly moved toward Shea.  Lysander watched this play out before looking back at Cynthia and noticed the way she was looking at him.  All thought process seemed to halt as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“Take off your helmet,” Cynthia ordered him.

Cynthia’s tone was neutral but commanding, something not often seen in the carefree inventor.  Lysander obediently brought both his frost helmet and his Chlorophyte Mask to his mostly empty inventory.  Without his headgear, his face was no longer obscured.  His short, brown hair made him look pacifistic when coupled with his dark-brown eyes.  He looked at Cynthia expectantly as she released her grip from his neck and he was able to stand at full height again.  They were roughly the same height, but Cynthia was just a few inches shorter than him.  

“Lysander,” she started unsurely. She then took off her top hat and brought it to her chest, the action let down her long disheveled brown hair that was trapped under her hat. “I uh…” She paused and looked away for a moment. “Lysander, I love you.” she stated finally.  She looked back at his face to see his reaction.

Lysander stood there with a neutral expression, not sure how to take in this new information.  Cynthia stared at him and almost looked heart broken by his lack of emotion.

“I uh…” He spoke up passively. “I honestly don’t know how to respond to that…” He rubbed the back of his head with his right hand.

Cynthia waited for Lysander to say more, but when it didn’t come she frowned and looked like she was on the brink of tears.  Her hat began to slip from her hands and Lysander took it out of her arms.  He then placed it on her head the right way forward and placed his arms on her shoulders.  He then gave her a reassuring smile.

“Cynthia, if you told me any sooner, I would have thought you were kidding me,” he told her. “But now?  In the situation that we’re in?” he asked questionably.  Cynthia’s heart was starting to break. “I don’t think there’s anything else I wanted to hear more,” he finished, giving her a reassuring smile.

Cynthia’s heart fluttered a little, but her eyes began to water despite the growing smile on her face.

“I’m guessing you’d want me to tell you that I feel the same.  But I don’t,” he added somberly. “Although I’m pretty sure I owe you a kiss for breaking all your machines,” he said giving her a warm smile.

She looked into his eyes and gave him a low chuckle.  “I built ‘em sugar.  I built ‘em tah look like Skeletron and Cthulhu’s Eye so they’d replace ‘em.  And even though I made them to protect Terrarians, the first thing they do is try tah hurt’cha,” she said sadly. “Now I was kinda mad at’tcha for breakin’ them, but I stayed cuz you saved lives stoppin’ ‘em.  I don’t think you owe me nuthin’.  If anythin’, I owe you something,” she admitted.

Lysander paused to think for only a moment before speaking up again. “Well ok,” he said with a sly smile. “Then you owe me a kiss,” he said in a hushed tone.

Cynthia looked at Lysander with a thankful gaze before shaking her head. “You got no charm in yah,” she said with a smile. “But thanks for trying to make me feel betta’.” She leaned in and pecked him on the lips.  The action caught him off guard and he flinched slightly. “See?  No charm,” she repeated mischievously. “Now git goin’.  That pod won’t be waitin’ for the rest of eternity.”

“No fair,” Lysander pouted irritably.

Cynthia ruffled his short brown hair and skipped around him.  Lysander just pondered the kiss Cynthia gave him before turning to see Ningauble and Shea smirking devilishly at him.  Cynthia had skipped behind them to start placing her machines back into place, so she didn’t notice.  Lysander smiled warmly as he watched Cynthia round the corner.  He came out of his stupor and started moving toward the large oak tree.  Shea walked in front of him and held up a hand to stop him.  He complied without word but questioned her actions.

Her face was serious and she faced her palm at the ceiling. “I need the Terra Blade,” she stated.

Lysander raised his eyebrow. “Why?” he asked.

Ningauble spoke up in his calm and serious voice.  “Because the Terra Blade carries the very essence of Terraria within its blade.  If Shea were to wield it, she’d have the power to shape Terraria permanently.” He explained.

Lysander looked back down at Shea’s open palm.  He breathed in and breathed out slowly before he summoned the Terra Blade from his empty hand into existence.  He put both hands on it and placed the handle in Shea’s hand.  Shea grabbed it and for a moment had trouble with its weight.  The Terra Blade was longer than an average Terrarian was tall, but when it’s held, its power holds up its weight for the wielder.  The Terra Blade itself has several natural colors on it, but mostly dominated by a greenish blade that has brighter day colors closer to its tip and darker night colors closer to its hilt.  The other color that makes up the hilt and hand guard is a light tree trunk brown, with a corresponding wood like metal.

Shea lifted the blade with ease and held it out in front of her vertically.  There were three gem shaped holes along its length.  Shea smiled enthusiastically as she felt the power of Terraria begin to speak to her.  

“It’s glorious.  This blade is powerful, and despite it being forged by you, it seems to exist at every point of Terraria’s existence,” she mused, more to herself than Lysander. “I know we can save Terraria with this blade.  But not when we use it as a weapon,” she said to Lysander.

She lowered the blade and held it horizontally in both her hands.  She turned around and walked toward the large oak tree.  She stepped inside and lifted the Terra Blade toward the ceiling of the tree.  Roots from the inside came down and wrapped around the blade, lifting it out of sight.  The tree began to adopt a bright green glow and the trunk began to ripple with green veins.  It looked like the tree was beginning to morph into a mix between an animal and plant.

“It’s ready for you Lysander,” Shea said with reprieve.  

She was still inside the tree looking up at the roof of the inner chamber.  She looked poetic as she stood there soaking in the glory of her creation.  Shea backed out of the chamber slowly.  Making sure she took in every detail she could before she left.  She spun around and looked at Lysander with a large grin on her face.

“You heading in?” she asked with a giddy smile.

Lysander raised an eyebrow before nodding and walking forward.  He took one last note on the status of the trunk he was about to enter.  The entrance to the center of the tree was an arch of thick oak wood. But now that the Terra blade was giving it power, the thick wood seemed to pulsate slowly, and the roots overhead seemed to sway like vines so subtly that Lysander almost missed it if he wasn’t following the green veins.  Lysander stepped through the arch and was now inside the hollow tree.  He got to the center and looked up to see the Terra blade facing upward with the hilt poking out of the ceiling.

“Lysander,” said Shea.  Lysander looked down and into the Dryads eyes.  She gave him a sad smile before continuing, “I’m going to need you to take off your armor and put it in your inventory.”

Lysander did what he was told and soon the only thing that kept him covered was his normal casual clothes.  Brown shoes and blue jeans with a teal undershirt and a grey short sleeve shirt.  His angel wings remained with all his other accessories.  He looked at Shea expectantly and she smiled approvingly.

“Now Lysander, I can only promise you that I’ll do my best to bring you back.  It will take me a long time, and I’ll need the help of the new residence of Terraria.  Fair warning, I may look like one of them.  So if you wake up, don’t be afraid if you don’t see me,” she explained confidently.

Lysander tilted his head in confusion. “Wait, how do you know I’m even going to make it?” he asked curiously. “I thought this was supposed to kill me.”

She frowned and put her hands together softly. “I don’t,” she admitted, “but in the end, you’re the only one who’s likely to survive this.  And if you do, I may need you to purify the world.  But for now this is goodbye.”

Lysander glanced back up at the hilt in the ceiling and then looked back to Shea. “Can I take the Terra Blade after I wake up?” he asked.

Shea smiled. “Yes, but I suggest you don’t reach for a weapon the moment you come out.  And don’t you have several other weapons on you? Do you really need it?” she asked smugly.

“Well no, but it’s the best sword I have,” he responded.

Shea held her arms out and slowly moved them together.  As her arms moved the wooden archway began to close shut.  For a few moments, Lysander and Shea stared at each other as the wood began to contract and fuse together.  Lysander seemed nervous but Shea seemed confident about this ordeal.  Just as the open space closed up to a small round hole the size of a fist, a thought occurred to Lysander.

“Wait!” He exclaimed.  Shea stopped closing the gaps and looked at him questionably. “What about the respirator thing?” he asked, motioning with his hands in front of his face to mimic putting on an oxygen mask.

Shea shook her head and smiled. “Unlike everyone else, your unconsciousness will be instantaneous.  The green solution will rush down at you and it will harden instantly.  After it’s done, your power will be completely drained…along with your life.” She said somberly. Her tone changed to be more optimistic. “I suggest you pose yourself heroically.  I mean, I am going to visit every thousand years or so,” she teased.

Lysander chuckled lightheartedly and nodded his head.  He spread his ghostly congruent wings wide and put his legs together.  He held his hands open palmed and fully extended and slightly spread away from his body.  Like he was about to embrace something that was falling toward him.

“Oooh,” Shea said with mock awe.

She abruptly closed the remaining gaps, and as Lysander smiled the green solution spilled on his head and within seconds the wide hollowed area of the trunk was filled to the brim with green solution.  Just a moment later, it solidified and Lysander saw darkness.  Shea looked on at his heroic pose and smiled.  He did a good job at seeming kind-hearted in the oak tomb that was tailored specifically for him.  She looked over to Ningauble and was surprised when she met his somber expression.

“Am I next?” he asked.

“Unfortunately… yes,” she responded.

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Ningauble woke with a start as he was immediately aware that he was moving.  From the ceiling his pod had fallen and woke him up.  The moment it hit the ground the green solution spilled out and he was left in the small pod dazed and confused.  It took him a minute to regain his thoughts and realize what he was.  A Terrarian wizard that gave much of his essence and magical ability to save what was left of the world, or completely destroy it and rewrite it.

He became aware of the size of the pod only a moment after he remembered who he was.  It took him only a moment longer to realize that the floor of the pod was actually above him, and his back was laying on a cold rocky surface.  He looked around and felt the familiar tug of his beard moving with his head.  He took note of the decrepit and moldy state of the pod he was in.  Its wood seemed soggy and no longer seemed to hold itself together.  He found this strange and if his quick analysis was true, then he should have woken up a long time ago.

He became distinctly aware water rippling in the distance.  His ears swiveled in the direction of said water and they were interrupted by a fabric on top of his head.  He ignored the sensation until he was suddenly aware of muscles on his head that he didn’t have before.  He shrugged it off as the new body that he was told he’d been given to fit in with the locals.  He then praised Shea for improving his hearing.  And then again later when he realized his eyesight was near perfect.  Only the dark cave was dark, and there was a source of ambient green light that he became aware of.  He rolled to his side with a grunt and tried to sit up.  But the moment he caught sight of his new appendages, he paused.  

He looked at them intensely and for a moment, he couldn’t put a name to them.  They were flat and surprisingly dexterous when he swiveled them with his new wrist.  As he stared at them he became aware of the rest of his body.  He looked down and was happy to see the robes that he previously wore; only now they were sapphire blue and no longer resembled robes.  Instead, they took a form of a cape.  He was thankful that the stars were still woven in the fabric.  

He looked up and recognized the brim of his wizard hat.  He’s been wearing it for so long that he didn’t notice it was still on his head.  He smiled with glee and stood on all fours as he tried to crawl out of the orb.  But when his wizard hat readjusted itself and bumped into a limb he hadn’t identified yet he paused.  He lifted his front left hoof to his head while trusting his balance to keep him from falling.  He reached under his hat and touched the new limb and began to analyze its rough surface.  

“Good blazes I’m a unicorn!” he exclaimed.

He felt almost betrayed to have been turned into one of those violent creatures.  He then stopped his train of thought and remembered that this was the form of the local inhabitance.  He huffed angrily and attempted to trot out from under the rotting orb.  There was a split down the center that was large enough for him to pass through, but to get through, he had to lift it up.  He grabbed the corners of the tear with his hooves and lifted it upward.  He was surprised when the whole thing rolled back and left him behind.  

He thought little of it and looked around the cave that he theorized he was trapped in.  But his eyes rested on the source of the weak green light and saw Lysander in his oak prison.  He pitied him for sacrificing so much, but he looked again and noticed on his face was a smug grin.  Ningauble smiled before examining the cave walls for any sign of an exit.  But his eyes then stopped on a grave stone that was hidden by shadows.  He approached it and was startled by his own hoofsteps clopping on the hard rock.  He quickly got over it and was able to slowly approach the gravestone.  When he got close enough to read it, he shuffled to the left so the light from the pod will light up the words inscribed on it.

“Ningauble, your new name is Starswirl.  P.S. your horn can channel magic.  Use it to light your way out of the tunnel.  P.P.S. the country you’re currently in is called Equestria.”

“Thatta girl.  Remembering little ol’ me for the future,” Ningauble stated appreciatively.

His knowledge of magic made finding the focal point of his horn simple.  In only a few moments he was able to fully light his horn in a blue aura.  He looked down at the gravestone and noted there was nothing left for him to read.  He smiled and looked up, seeing a tunnel where he could go to leave the cave.  He trotted forward for a few steps then paused and looked back at the gravestone.

He pondered it for a few moments before thinking aloud. “Hmm, if someone stumbles across this and sees that, they might suspect me of foul play…”  He looked back at Lysander in his prison.  “That would tarnish your sacrifice my friend…and I can’t have that.” He looked back at the tombstone and focused his will on the rock.  Within moments, it turned to fine gravel.

He then looked back at the large oak tree.  He noticed the remaining pods were still very lively and the side of the tree was sporting an ancient and rusted machine.  He remembered the rotting state of his pod and realized the pods still attached to the tree seemed full of life compared to his rotted and dead pod.

“Huh, a stasis spell… combined with a timed rapid aging spell… Shea you sly-oh wait, no I did that,” he reminded himself. “Hahaha, silly me.” He turned and followed the tunnel with a confident smile on his face.