Failure was never an option. That had always been Mare's approach to everything. Now that he was not merely a Floor Guardian but a Prince of the Nazarick Empire, the very idea of failure felt more blasphemous than ever. He carried the legacy of Yggdrasil and the divine expectations of two supreme beings. His main task was simple: ensure that Jarnvidr, the vast forest Ainz had conjured into existence, was properly tethered to the emerald dream, which meant he needed to interact with the Cenarion Circle.
Sitting on a smooth slab of rock just outside the main ramp leading into Blackrock Mountain, Mare oozed an aura of stillness. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even, as he let the echo of the earth's pulse rise through his feet and spine. Around him, his attendants mimicked his lotus posture with varying levels of grace.
He was clad in the same tailored uniform as Aura—black with deep violet trim and subtle arcane threading—but unlike his sister, Mare missed his old skirt and long socks. Not because of any discomfort with his identity—his parents were clear on that—but because he was a prince now. A title came with a uniform, and he wore it with imperial dignity, despite longing for the swish of cloth at his knees.
Even so, he cared for his appearance, combing his hair to perfection and trimming and filing his nails into neat semi-round crescents. He had no dirt under his nails, even after spending the morning working with shamans in Jarnvidr.
As a druid, he felt at home in the forest his father had created, though he felt the disconnection from the world Lord Ainz had informed him of. His father may have been the absolute ruler of the supreme beings, but his expertise in nature was minimal and thus had not accounted for the peculiarities of this world.
Mare was not entirely sure how to connect to the emerald dream, but he was about to find out from the local druids, some of whom were millennia old.
Finally, Onyxia arrived through a gate with six wyrms in tow and bowed, "I apologize for the delay, your Imperial Highness, but your mother wished to personally instruct me on how I should conduct myself around you."
Mare opened his eyes and blinked at her.
"I-It's fine. Let's go then." He stood up, clutching his staff. His meek demeanor was an act he put on naturally, and it consistently distracted people enough for him to read everyone around him. Onyxia looked terrified, which meant his Mother had likely warned her about some of his behaviors. He wasn't particularly familiar with the workings of his parents' inner circle, so he would need to observe Onyxia carefully to have a better grasp on how to interact with her.
The dragoness didn't stall and opened a gate for him immediately, leading to a small grove where the Cenarion Circle members were permitted to take as Mare followed silently. The scene that greeted him on the other side of the gate could only be described as chaotic. A bird the size of a hawk, with tusks curving out from its beak, squawked angrily from its unfortunate position—wedged beak-first into the hollow of a tree. Nearby, a tusked lion-like creature chased its tail in a dizzying spiral, while a frustrated tauren tried to stop the beast. Off to the side, a group of trolls were practicing nature magic under the tutelage of a night elf while a large bear with antlers slept under a nearby tree, loudly snoring.
"Presenting Imperial Prince Mare Ooal Gown." Onyxia's voice crashed through the grove, the tail-chasing lion leaping into a bush in panic, and the poor tusked bird let out a startled shriek from within its wooden prison.
The bear jolted awake with such force that his antlers rattled the leaves above him. In the blink of an eye, fur and claws were replaced by flesh and robes as the druid shifted into his night elf form.
"Ah, the young prince we were warned about. I'm Amallath Mosscloud, and I look forward to working with you." He broke into a good-natured smile and bowed lightly.
"I suggest you address His Imperial Highness properly." Onyxia hissed.
Amallath didn't flinch. He merely turned his gaze to her and gave her a serene smile, "We druids are not ones for formalities. I'm sure the young prince is more interested in what we can teach than the long prattle and recital of titles," he said simply.
"Let's start then. I need to see how you connect the forest to the emerald dream." Mare agreed with the sentiment of keeping things simple. As a druid himself, he felt some kinship with these people. Of course, they weren't servants of his parents and thus ultimately disposable, but as long as they were useful, he would treat them as friends.
Amallath gave a satisfied nod and gestured for Mare to follow, eager to show off the living conduits, enchanted groves, and dreamward saplings they'd been nurturing under imperial permission.
Meanwhile, Onyxia just growled and stepped back, leaning against a tree with her arms crossed. Buku's words still echoed in her mind. If she tried to groom, seduce, or manipulate Mare in any way, her head would be mounted on the bedroom wall and her headless body reanimated and used as a toilet for orks. Honestly, she didn't know what was worse: the visuals, the creativity, or the fact that Buku had said it while smiling.
"First things first," the druid began, "as I understand, the druidic arts you are familiar with are not directly connected to Azeroth in any way, so you could start by telling me what you know of their nature so I don't bore you with things you already know.
"I have an ability called nature manipulation, which lets me create, alter, and duplicate plant life," Mare replied softly. "I can also create earth dragons. What I need to know is how to connect the forest to the emerald dream."
"Ah, yes. The task your father entrusted to you." Amallath inclined his head in reverence. "I will show you how to access Emerald Dream, but I must warn you: something strange is happening within it. Druids who chose to walk its sacred glades are not waking up. For that reason, we only access this realm through meditation." Amallath explained.
Mare blinked, but said nothing. No reaction, no concern shown outwardly. Only the faintest of nods.
"Let's walk," the druid suggested, motioning to a sun-dappled moss and fern trail. "This surrounding area is already fully integrated. It will serve as a safe anchor."
The grove they were in was magical—canopies braided like the vaulted ceilings of temples, the air was thick with the perfume of honeysuckle, pine, and ancient loam. Behind them, his dragon attendants in humanoid forms followed without a word, their eyes scanning every shadow.
This tidbit of information was already enough, and he reached out with his mind and observed the vegetation around him, feeling the subtle connection to the immaterial realm of nature. With him constantly keeping up a meek appearance, Mare had mastered the skill of multitasking and listened to the druid explain the simple basics as his main attention plunged deeper into the emerald dream.
It greeted him like a shrouded dreamscape, vibrant with life, yet wrong in ways that twisted the gut. A putrid scent of rot clung to the otherwise pristine natural energy like mold on a sacred scroll. The corruption wasn't overt, but it was persistent.
"Ah, and here it is," Amallath said at last, stopping beside an ash tree and stroking its bark. "I will start with this tree and you, young prince, please observe."
The druid pressed his palm gently to the tree's bark, eyes fluttering shut. Soft green light traced along his fingers, into the trunk, and pulsed through the roots in rhythmic patterns. The air shimmered as subtle threads of the Dream bled through into reality, connecting the tree to its reflection in the spirit realm.
Mare watched in silence, outwardly. Inwardly, his spiritual senses had already tracked this process several minutes ago. The moment Amallath had suggested meditation, Mare had already begun. He hadn't needed the demonstration, but watching it confirmed his feelings.
There was contamination, yes. But the path was clear. The energies of life and rot were distinct. Where other druids might struggle to filter them apart, Mare's divine control over nature allowed him to segregate them like a farmer separating chaff from grain or a healer drawing poison from blood. The less this druid knew about his actual capability, the better. Caution bordering on paranoia was the best approach when dealing with individuals with questionable loyalties and goals. Mare knew that he now shared this trait with his father and couldn't be more proud to have some similarities with the ultimate ruler. His parents remade him better, and he couldn't be more grateful.
"Was my demonstration enough to catch glimpses of the process?" The druid asked, his tone kind, perhaps even a bit proud, as if he had taught something meaningful.
"Yes," Mare said with a quiet nod. Polite. Reserved. And entirely false.
He remained half-lost from the material realm. Something weird was happening in the emerald dream, and he wanted to be sure Jarnvidr was adequately protected from this rot, which seemed to be subtly corrupting the emerald dream. This task was not particularly hard as he could sense a clear distinction between the two types of energies, and all he had to do was to shield the plant life from the corrupting influence while letting nature energies through.
Mare picked a nearby tree for the test and cast a spell that connected it fully with the emerald dream. There was a subtle change in the tree's energy, and it seemingly perked up and spread wider.
"You learn fast, young prince." Amallath patted the tree. "You are in good hands, my friend. Grow strong."
Mare said nothing in response. Not because he was rude—just focused. The test was successful, so he continued with his task. Doing this one tree at a time, like the druids of Cenarion Circle, would take years, so he sought to match his father and deal with the entire forest in one go. He already knew Aura would soon start populating Jarnvidr with wildlife, and he needed to finish ahead of her.
With a deep breath, he extended his awareness to encompass the entirety of the Empire. Then, he drew upon his near infinite mana reserves, converting the primal force that was his birthright into pure nature energies, warm green light dancing around his fingers. As he exhaled, they rushed out of him. The world trembled, the shockwave rippling through the forest like a sacred pulse. Amallath was thrown backward by the sheer force, landing unceremoniously in a pile of soft moss. The trees around them didn't just react—they celebrated. The roots of the trees and grass reached deeper into soil they now fertile and welcoming, their branches and stems pushing up toward the sun. The forest responded with a satisfied sigh of gratitude. In one fell swoop, his job was done.
Mare calmly dusted his hands off, looking entirely unbothered by what he had just done.
Amallath, meanwhile, was weeping on his knees, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. His lips quivered. "How!? How did you do this? Lord Cenarius himself couldn't perform such a feat… not even Ysera could."
"Dad made me in his image." Mare proudly replied with a wide smile.
The druid let out a choked laugh, halfway between worship and hysteria. "Please," he said, crawling forward slightly. "Please take me as your apprentice. Teach me. No—teach all of us. My people need your guidance. Let us follow you."
In Amallath's eyes, Mare was no longer a mere prince. He was a living conduit of life itself, a divine entity, perhaps even kin to the great Life-Binder Eonar, goddess of all living things, the one who bestowed her gifts to Alexstraza and Ysera. It was no longer possible, nor necessary, to explain Mare in mere druidic terms. The young prince had done what even the demigods of nature had failed to do.
In his heart, Amallath was certain now: the Supreme Ones were titans reborn. First, they restored the black dragonflight: purged of their corruption and noble once again. Now, this child—this gentle, soft-spoken boy—had restored balance to nature on a scale once believed to be myth.
Mare, for his part, scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Umm…I'll have to ask Dad about it," he said, already regretting the eye contact. "But if he says it's okay, sure. As long as you serve him with proper loyalty and devotion."
Amallath bowed low, forehead touching the forest floor. "Of course. We'll await your answers. For now, we shall train the next generation of druids for your command."
'Dad wanted more druids, so this should be a good thing.' Mare gave a quiet nod, but inside, a familiar anxiety slithered in like a silent predator ready to gnaw on his peace of mind. All he wanted was to deal with the forest and make his parents proud, not start a cult of druids that worship him as a God. 'I didn't mess up, did I?'
He walked towards Onyxia with a purpose, the dragoness not looking even slightly surprised about the outcome of his actions.
"I-I need to go back. To talk with father." He urged.
"As you wish." Onyxia bowed and opened a gate.
Mare didn't waste a moment. He rushed through, arriving in his quarters, and ran straight towards the throne room where he hoped to find his father at this hour. To his immense relief, his father was on his throne and discussing the possibility of a permanent portal network with the head warlock whose name Mare didn't know.
Ainz's head turned the moment his son burst into the room, the blue flames in his eye sockets dimming momentarily in curiosity. "Back already? Did you need anything?"
"I'm done with the forest but…" Mare froze, his hands shaking uncontrollably. The words caught in his throat and twisted, gripped by the gnawing fear that he had ruined everything.
He had been entrusted with a task.
And what if he had messed it up?
Ainz, ever perceptive, held up a hand. "Leave us," he commanded.
The warlock stopped mid-sentence, bowed so deeply his forehead nearly kissed the floor, and quickly scurried away. The towering black-armoured overlord rose from his throne and walked over to his son, the clack of his bone-shod boots echoing softly in the silent chamber. "What happened?" He asked, concerned.
"The druids… they want to study under me a-and worship me." Mare managed to stammer.
A beat of silence passed. Then another. "Are you sure their request was genuine?"
Mare nodded quickly. "Yes. I believe so."
"Then I see no problem… as long as they don't try to influence you," Ainz replied with an ease that nearly made Mare's knees give out. He let out the biggest sigh of relief. He hadn't messed up anything.
"Was that all you were worried about?" Ainz asked as he returned to his throne. With a fatherly gesture, he motioned toward the throne beside him—a newer construct, elegant yet practical, built specifically for his heir.
Still shaking slightly, Mare plopped into the seat, his legs dangling slightly. He was a prince of the empire now, but still a child, especially in the eyes of the one seated beside him.
"There is also something wrong with the Emerald Dream," he admitted, his voice soft but steadying now. "But I blocked all the corrupting energies. The forest is fine now."
Ainz tapped the sharp edge of his chin with a thoughtful clack, a habit Mare recognized from moments of deep contemplation. "This corruption doesn't sound good. Hmm…"
A pause. Then a challenge disguised as a command.
"Mare, do you think you could manage to take over the Cenarion Circle and perform a worldwide investigation into this matter?"
Mare blinked. The idea hit him like a thunderclap. Take over the Circle? It sounded absurd. He was still adjusting to the weight of his boots. But there was no sarcasm in Ainz's voice, no doubt—only trust.
His father believed in him.
And that was more empowering than any spell.
"I will try." Mare eagerly nodded, earning a head pat from Ainz. His father surely trusted his ability, and the boy was thrilled to have such trust.
Editing by NabeisWaifu, Nick L
Proofreading by IAMTHEPLOKOKIOPO, fvvck, Ivan Chechnya
Link my discord server (https://discord.gg/WmGKVU3XG2)