A harsh journey — and not merely exhausting. Something in that forest felt… familiar to the Elden. Especially to Malenia. The deeper they went, the more restless she became, until finally, when they reached the riverbank where a stone bridge must once have stood — now reduced to scattered ruins — the answer revealed itself.
"Look there," Malenia said gravely, pointing her sword toward the shore. "Traces of the Scarlet Rot."
The company approached. At a glance, it was only a faint red stain in the water, but the Elden understood immediately what it meant.
"We must cross this river," said Thorin, paying no attention to the danger. His mind, already clouded by the forest, saw only the obstacle ahead.
"Perhaps we could repair the bridge," said Miquella without hesitation, convinced he could manage it with the power of his ring. He had been recharging it with the energy of the trees they passed, though he noticed these lacked the vitality they should have possessed.
"We don't have time for that," Thorin growled.
"But we can't cross just like that. Remember what Gandalf said: Don't touch the water," Nori intervened.
"We could go through the roots of the trees," Dwalin suggested.
"Maybe… I have another way," Miquella said suddenly, looking at his loyal steed. He smiled softly. "Looks like you'll be working hard today, my friend." He gave Torrent an affectionate pat on the neck.
What followed was, to say the least, a curious sight: one by one, dwarves and Elden climbed onto Torrent, and the spectral steed carried them across in a graceful leap to the opposite bank. Then he drifted back, floating lightly, to fetch the next passenger. The strangest moment came when it was Latenna's wolf's turn; Torrent carried the beast effortlessly, but the dwarves were puzzled when Latenna herself made no attempt to walk. Seeing her motionless from the waist down, several of them exchanged silent glances.
Without saying it aloud, they began to notice a pattern. Miquella, with his eternal childhood; Malenia, marked by Scarlet Rot; Latenna, without the use of her legs…
The Elden were not only powerful — they seemed like warriors destined to bear some ancient misfortune, as if each carried a burden, a curse, or a wound that would never fully heal. No one commented on it, but none could avoid wondering what unseen afflictions the remaining Elden might carry.
At last, after several trips, they crossed the tainted river. Miquella stroked Torrent again, thanking him softly and promising rewards when everything was over. But as he spoke, a yawn escaped him.
The company resumed their march, entering a part of the forest worse than the one before. Darker. Deader. Twisted trees covered with reddish fungi loomed like silent watchers, and time itself seemed to dissolve under that oppressive canopy. To make matters worse, Miquella yawned more and more often; his head drooped to the sides, as if each step dragged him deeper into an inevitable sleep.
"My lord…" said Leda with concern, as everyone — Elden and dwarves alike — turned toward him.
"I'm fine… just…" another yawn cut him off "just a bit tired."
"Gandalf is in trouble!?" shouted one of the dwarves, remembering what had been said earlier.
"No… not yet," Miquella murmured with difficulty. "But… as a precaution… and because I can't hold it back anymore… I'm going to fall into a deep sleep for a while. Sister… you're in charge… do… what you think is right…"
He didn't finish the sentence: Miquella collapsed unconscious on Torrent's back, breathing deeply, like a child sunk into peaceful slumber.
Leda and Malenia hurried to check him, but found nothing wrong. He was simply asleep… far too deeply. It was clear that nothing would wake him anytime soon.
The company now faced an immediate problem. Without Miquella, they had no access to summoned food or water. Their supplies were gone; they weren't even fully satisfied at that moment. Hunger and thirst began to burn fiercely.
They had no choice.
They had to keep moving.
Only now half the Elden were forced to act as permanent escorts around the sleeping prince, protecting him on all sides while Torrent carried him forward as if guarding a precious treasure.
…
Miquella had entered the dreamworld once again, where Trina awaited him as always, wrapped in her serene, ethereal calm.
"Gandalf?" he asked immediately. He already sensed the answer — Trina would have told him if something had happened — but he asked anyway.
"No," she replied softly. "I'm taking care of him. But we have enough strength left for one more little journey." She approached with elegance, almost floating. "Shall we keep our promise to Beorn?"
"I suppose…" Miquella let out a weary sigh. "That forest was getting to me. I needed some activity… Maybe I really am a child after all…" He tried to rationalize his strange existence: two souls united, two minds intertwined… mortal and immortal.
Trina didn't answer; she didn't need to. Their shared nature made words unnecessary. She came closer, rested a hand on his shoulder, and then, in a gesture filled with intimacy, wrapped her arms around him from behind. Miquella leaned into the embrace. A purple mist rose around them both, enveloping them like a soft mantle… and then slowly consumed them, until they vanished together into the dark void.
…
Meanwhile, the company pressed on. They were still conscious enough to continue, but every step grew harder. And the path worsened rapidly. Huge spiderwebs hung from the trees, thick as white clouds tangled between branches. The Elden, accustomed to fighting giant creatures, began to tense.
Every time someone — dizzy from heat, hunger, or the forest's confusion — strayed even slightly off the path, Malenia appeared instantly. A sharp tap with the flat of her blade served as a warning before forcing them back on track.
But even she was uneasy. Within her, the Scarlet Rot pulsed violently. The corrupt presence in the forest called to her like a distant echo, like a reflection of herself. If she didn't have to protect her sleeping brother, she would have already run toward it.
And soon the trouble arrived.
Unlike in the film, Bilbo never touched a web — he was too dazed and confused by the forest. But in a group this large, it was nearly impossible not to brush against a sticky strand or draw the attention of the forest's inhabitants.
One by one, several began to slow down. They felt watched. Hunted. The Elden, and the more seasoned dwarves, drew their weapons in silence. The weaker ones — or those too exhausted — didn't even notice the shift in the air.
They continued on, tense, until the moment came.
From the treetops, several giant spiders dropped onto the company. They aimed to crush the stragglers, taking them by surprise…
But they failed.
Malenia reacted first. Her longblade arced upward in a shining sweep, cleaving one of the creatures mid-air, slicing it clean in two. It was the first kill.
Elden and dwarves fought as best they could against the sudden ambush. They tried to form a defensive ring, but spiders descended from every direction — climbing, leaping, circling. The forest was their territory, and they held all the mobility advantage.
Worse: many Elden couldn't move freely because they were guarding Miquella's unconscious body. Even so, they held the line. The first waves of spiders were repelled… until something far worse appeared.
A shriek tore through the woods. The normal spiders froze, tense… then retreated. In fear.
From the darkness came a larger, misshapen spider, its chitin plates overtaken by pulsating red fungi like living flesh. A creature consumed by Scarlet Rot.
The moment it sensed the others and the company, it charged blindly, rabid, nearly insane. The ordinary spiders fled from it as from a living plague. The Elden recognized it instantly… and their attention split along with their priorities.
The situation worsened as more corrupted creatures emerged: spiders and swollen hatchlings covered in the same sickly crimson glow.
Chaos erupted.
Swords cut legs, chitin, whole bodies. There were too many spiders, attacking from all directions. The fighting between the normal and the infected spiders helped… but the rotted ones were far stronger, more savage, more resilient.
The Elden could fight for hours if needed, but the real danger was Miquella. He was helpless, unable to defend himself, and the slightest misstep could kill him. Protecting him was the first priority.
The climax struck when a smaller spider — swollen, trembling, quivering — sprinted straight toward the center of the formation.
It did not aim for any warrior. It simply moved… toward the most crowded point.
The company didn't think much of it at first.
Until Malenia sensed it.A vibration in the air. A familiar pulse. An imminent danger.
"RUN!" she shouted, shoving aside the Elden guarding Miquella.
The dwarves had no time to react. Not even the other spiders — they, too, sensed the danger and skittered away in terror.
The swollen spider reached the center, arched its body…and slammed itself onto the ground in a desperate leap.
The explosion was not fire or force, but death.
A cloud of crimson spores burst like a wave, engulfing everyone nearby.
The dwarves coughed instantly, collapsing to their knees as a horrible burning sensation tore through their bodies. Some dropped their weapons, unable to hold them under the sudden pain and weakness. The spiders caught in the blast screeched and fled at once, terrified of the infection.
No one expected a suicide bomber. And the effect was devastating.
The dwarves were decimated. The Elden, mostly, resisted thanks to their nature.
But more swollen spiders approached.
Kilian, blinded in one eye by the spores, managed to draw her bow and shoot one, making it burst before it got close… but several more crawled among the shadows.
Malenia prepared for a desperate fight when a whisper reached her ear.
Her brother's voice — but not his usual one. The other one. Trina's voice.
She turned just in time to see Torrent galloping away from the battle, carrying Miquella on his back.
Remembering the whisper's message, Malenia ran to the other Elden and forced them to regroup. Once together, she gave them new orders.
The Elden were confused… but obeyed. Leda burned with the urge to chase after Miquella, but ultimately fell in line as well.
With the formation ready, the Elden began a strategic retreat, while Malenia advanced alone, striking only the corrupted spiders. Even without her full power, she was still an unparalleled warrior. Each swing felled a threat.
The infected spiders' advantage was their strength. Their weakness: far fewer in number compared to the normal ones.
Malenia cut down as many as she could… and then, unexpectedly, she turned and ran into the trees.
The Elden saw her and understood.
Swift as shadows, they sprinted and leapt toward the webs hanging from the highest branches, letting themselves be caught on purpose. They tangled themselves up, keeping their weapons hidden in their hands.
The spiders — newly arrived reinforcements — suspected nothing. With their limited intelligence, they saw only trapped prey and rushed to bind them tighter, hauling them toward their nest.
The dwarves, however, could not grasp the strategy. Between Scarlet Rot, exhaustion, and venom, their strength was reduced to the bare minimum: survive one more second, breathe one more second.
The spiders captured them one by one: first those knocked out by the initial explosion, then those still resisting but too weak to stand.
They wrapped them quickly and carried them off as well. They couldn't eat them here, in the middle of a battlefield, nor leave such valuable prey behind to be stolen by the infected spiders.
And so, the entire company — Elden and dwarves alike — was captured and taken into the dark lair of the forest's creatures