Nébula felt a cold energy envelop her, as though the air had been sucked from her lungs. The vision within the crystal sphere seemed to stretch beyond its surface, a menacing shadow creeping into reality.

The spectral woman raised one long, pale finger and pointed it directly at Nébula.
— Your light will soon fade, protector, and your forest will perish like all the others before it.

With a deafening crack, the sphere shattered into countless luminous fragments that dissolved into the air. Instantly, a strange darkness spread through the clearing. This was no ordinary night: the sky seemed smothered by black clouds, and the moonlight, now veiled, gave off only a sickly, faint glow.

Howls shattered the silence. One by one, the animals of the forest began to cry out, as though overcome with deep pain.

The curse had begun.

The trees, so majestic only moments before, began to wither. Their bark cracked, oozing a foul-smelling black sap. The red-and-white mushrooms adorning their trunks shriveled and died, while the branches, once strong, sagged under an unseen weight.

The first signs of the curse quickly spread among the creatures. The black stags, usually so graceful, lost their luster, their coats growing dull and their steps clumsy. Birds tumbled from their perches, unable to spread their wings.

Panic-stricken, Nébula knelt before the sleeping fairy, searching for answers in her peaceful face. She extended a trembling hand toward her.
— Please... wake up. We need you...

But the Snow Fairy remained still. Her breathing was so faint that Nébula wasn't even sure she was alive anymore.

As Nébula stood again, a sharp pain tore through her body. A dark mark appeared on her leg, spreading slowly, like black roots curling around her skin. She tried to rub it away, but the mark seemed alive, burning itself into her flesh. She realized the curse wasn't limited to the forest. It would reach her as well, and perhaps anyone connected to these sacred lands.

An elf stepped forward hesitantly, his wide eyes filled with horror.
— Nébula... that mark, the forest... If we do nothing, it will vanish from the memory of all creatures and even the goddesses. It will become nothing but a wasteland...

Nébula clenched her fists. She couldn't let that happen. If the Snow Fairy couldn't be awakened, she would have to find another solution. An ancient legend surfaced in her mind: the tale of a forgotten lake, hidden deep in the Northern Lands, whose waters could purify even the most powerful curses.

She lifted her eyes to the forest creatures, their faces a mixture of fear and hope.
— I will go. I will find this lake, no matter what it takes.

But the goblin standing nearby shook his head.
— That lake... it's guarded by shadows. Shadows born of the same curse that's devouring our forest. No living being has ever returned from it.

Nébula met his gaze, resolute.
— Then I'll be the first.

Without waiting for a reply, she turned toward the forest's depths, now darkened by the looming shadow of the curse. A glacial wind whispered warnings through the trees in an ancient tongue.

Every step she took felt heavier than the last. The mark on her arm crept further, and she could feel her connection to the forest weakening. But she couldn't falter. If she failed, everything she loved would be lost.