Trewee hissed. He looked... wrong. Instead of a smooth, flowing shape, his surface was jagged and fractured. Black streaks ran through him, spreading out from his eye like black dye injected into gelatin.

"What happened?" Sophie whispered. "He... he looks sick. Can watersprites get sick?"

Xino frowned. "No, not usually. But it's not a big deal, I'll just..." He tried Narrating the stain away again, but nothing happened. He blinked. "...what?" He tried again. Nothing. "I... I can't Narrate it," he said, bewildered. "Why can't I Narrate it?"

It is the mark of a withergeist, said a voice in a strange, somehow silent intonation. Xino and Sophie both jumped at the sudden appearance of a man behind them. He was dressed in what appeared to be some sort of uniform and was entirely grayscale. They have corrupted this spirit, begun the process of turning it into one of themselves. At this stage of the process, you cannot reverse it- not even by Narration.

Xino summoned a spear and held it against the newcomer's throat. "Who are you?" he asked threateningly. "What do you mean, a withergeist?"

The strange man lifted a finger calmly and all of a sudden the spear was frozen in place. He stepped to the side. I am what is known as an Ennuller, a wielder of ordered darkness. A withergeist is a spirit of chaotic darkness that hungers to spread its darkness until all the world is infected.

"What are you talking about?" sputtered Xino, trying unsuccessfully to free the spear. Eventually he gave up and Narrated a new one. "I've never heard of any of that nonsense before."

It wasn't relevant to you before. The man's expression became sober. But it is now.