neriumoleander

The metal pierces the dragon's chest, and through it, as the great beast crashes to the ground, its heart. The world quakes as the spell dies. Memories and realities ripple outwards in great waves of voluminous purple and sparks, though only the most sensitive to magic would see its traces.

There is no time. Nerium apparates to the dragon's side in an instance, but the life has already gone. All is shattered. Her work, her dreams, the gift of magic she has brought upon all. But there is no time to mourn. No time to think of consequences. Traces of the dragon still burn, the spell is still alive within the wood.

With a rush of whisper and prayer, Nerium closes her eyes and steps within the burning ash that was once a creature of magic. Her words offer sacrifice to the goddesses and to the great deities of old.

The final gust of wind rushes around her, through her, reaches inside of Nerium and pulls her apart. Something like a soul disperses through the woods, resting upon every tree, every trace of ground, every root and flower and animal until they are one. Nerium's magic leaves a silvery sheen upon all it touches. The quickly unraveling spell is repelled upon its boundaries and what remains is an Enchanted Forest, as wild and alive with magic and fantasy as Nerium's dreams.

And a woman. Just a woman. Whose magic has been sacrificed to a higher calling and lives within her no more.

She stands there frozen for quite some time. Unsure now where the woods end and she begins. And when the final traces of magic finally leave her, Nerium collapses.

The next several days are difficult. Even the most mundane tasks prove difficult without her innate skills. Steps heavy without levitation, candle flames exhaustively numerous to light. She still has her potions - her books and knowledge - but all that require a higher level of innate power are lost to her.

It is no matter. She has brought magic back into the world. True, wild magic. When she walks into her wood, she is greeted by unicorns. The hooves of centaurs echo wild in the distance and the water nymphs which once lived only in her pond now inhabit all the waters of the wood.

Even if only a pocket, pure magic rests now in this world once more. And if this be her legacy, Nerium Oleander Grimhilde, Mother of Magic - it is all worth it.

(ooc: Find Nerium in the woods or use this to address your character's aftermath of the spell)