In the heart of the vast marshlands known as the Neck, there lived a unique and resilient people called the crannogmen. Their villages, fashioned from reeds and thatch, perched upon floating islands amidst the mire. These humble abodes were a testament to their resourcefulness and their intimate connection with the untamed landscape that surrounded them.

The crannogmen, so named for their distinctive way of life, were a humble and poor folk. Their existence revolved around the bounty of the marsh—fishing and frogging providing their sustenance. Their villages, though modest, held a certain charm, their structures blending seamlessly with the marsh's natural beauty.

Legends and rumors surrounded the crannogmen, some suggesting that their smaller stature was a result of intermarriage with the mystical children of the forest. Others, more skeptically, attributed their size to the harsh reality of poor nutrition. Yet, the truth lay hidden in the veins of every crannogman—a trace of the ancient bloodline of the children of the forest.

Despite their modest living conditions, the crannogmen held steadfast to the faith of the old ways. In the South, where the influence of the Faith of the Seven and the Andals took root, the crannogmen remained a beacon of the ancient beliefs. They were disparaged by outsiders with derogatory names like "frogeaters" and "mudmen." The ironborn, ever known for their seafaring conquests, dubbed them bog devils—a testament to the crannogmen's resilience in the face of persistent challenges.

Notoriously difficult to conquer, the crannogmen maintained their independence and their unique way of life. The ruler of these marshlands, House Reed of Greywater Watch, held the reins of leadership.

In the midst of his journey towards the North, Xerneas felt an inexplicable pull, a calling from the heart of the woods that compelled him to halt his stride. Turning to gaze towards the source of the mysterious energy, his eyes penetrated the dense swamps and thickets, reaching the region nestled between the Flint Cliff and the Neck.

There, beneath the ancient canopy of the woods, Xerneas beheld a poignant scene. A group of people, their faces etched with both despair and hope, had gathered around a heart tree. Their fervent prayers resonated through the air, a solemn chorus that conveyed the weight of their emotions. Among them, a couple stood, their hearts heavy with grief, as they beseeched the gods for the recovery of their child, who lay stricken by the relentless grip of the greywater fever.

The onlookers, though weak and wearied, offered solace and support to the grieving parents. In the heart of this somber assembly, the oldest Weirwood tree in the region stood sentinel, its gnarled branches reaching towards the heavens. Xerneas, an observer, felt a profound connection with the devoted souls who sought solace beneath the sacred tree.

As the collective energy of the gathering manifested in a quiet symphony of prayers and cries, Xerneas sensed an ethereal force gathering around him. His antlers, adorned with an otherworldly grace, began to radiate in seven colors that shimmered through the mist. The mystical aura of the Weirwood, coupled with the fervent devotion of the people, kindled a deep sense of attachment within the legendary Pokémon.

Moved by an invisible force, Xerneas took a deliberate step forward, the mist swirling around him as he advanced towards the Neck.