An ordinary elf girl will not know the intricacies and changes of the political making of the leadership. So she continues on her own boring daily chores… At the rise of the sun, she wakes up to bother her mom for food crying like a baby… well in her opinion, not really much of a baby.
"Mom, cook something, aren't there like snake meat recently that the Einherjars brought?"
"Ugh, you smelly brat! Fine!"
Below their tree house, in the dirt lacking any monster presence, plenty of elves gather to tend for their breakfast. Elves are late sleepers waking up barely over 10:00 am the morning, and for them, breakfast is a very foreign thing.
If not for her highness enforcing that an elf has to eat three times a day, they will not even bother eating breakfast. In fact, the 'act' of eating itself has become more of a job in the elven community that there is even a supervisor who makes sure that they eat three times a day.
The elves specifically on the job are none other than… the cute little troubles, juvenile elves who are still studying at the Academy of the Hunts.
From the bridges, the Elf Police in a group of three marches around and makes sharp observations taking account of the number of people responsibly cooking for their breakfast.
"Oh~ I wish I could go to the academy too…"
At the little elf girl's musing, her mother just laughs at her.
"You are not even half their height, how old are you?"
"Come on, Mom, won't you know better than me?"
The smell of meat pervades the air as each family of elves takes care of their needs to their own, from creating fire to taking out their stored food and cooking them. There are even a few elves who are going as far as to boast their sizable potions of food trading them for the food of others and maybe even spices.
"It won't hurt to dream, you know…" The little elf girl whispers to herself as she scrutinizes the little snake meat that her mom is cooking over the bonfire barehanded. It takes guts to not fear the fire.
For her, cooking is a hassle because of the hurting and burning of the flames.
"Mom, you could have used a skewer, you know?"
"I am too lazy…"
"Uumm… Why don't use your spare arrows then? The others are doing it…"
"I cannot. If I damage my arrows, I might lose the chance to practice. The Einherjar are recruiting anytime soon. I hope to enlist, but their standards are too demanding for this aging momma of yours."
Ambition might seem out of place if it involves an elf, but as the value of trust in the new government continue to rise, the more the change continues to propel every individual elf to its own.
The little elf girl after breakfast immediately heads off for the open lecture from the Academy of Hunts leaving her mom who should be practicing her marksmanship to her own.
At some distance from the academy building, there is a wooden stage about thrice the elf girl's height.
The respectable elf, the principal of the Academy of Hunts, Naya, rises to the stage. Following her are a couple of elves bringing a giant parchment and setting them up in a manner that everyone watching can see them— this serves as visual aids as the principal likes to call it.
With lightness from the tip of her fingers, the principal carefully uses charcoal to write on the parchment careful not accidentally rip it.
The little elf girl listens attentively to the lecture about Elven Runes, something that many don't bother learning about. In the open lecture, only she is the young one. Several different elves older than her gather to listen to the lecture, and while she is feeling overwhelmed, the amount of elves present is not really that much if she compares it to the group of elves tending to their breakfast just this morning.
Writing is important, she comes to realize this as the first time, second time, and again and again hears from a Pilgrim about the few stories about the legendary Elf King himself, and his inheritor, the Elf Princess.
As a little girl, she has no grand designs for royalty, only a burning curiosity as to where simply reading and writing can bring her.
Meanwhile, on another spectrum, the young little elf girl is smiling at an old elf. It is the end of the class and the young elf girl congregates with her fellow young elves at the dirt plaza. The same pilgrim that she learns a lot of things from walks to them with a smile on his face.
The old elf while long past his age remains hale and hearty, and each of his steps exudes strength.
"Oyo~ my dear kids, how are you runts doing? Did you choose parents who you wanted?"
Coming to him is a group of orphaned elves who so dearly adore him. For an old elf like him who recently returns from his job as a Pilgrim, it is a rare vacation for him to be able to return home like this.
"It is so awesome here! We play every day!"
"Ah~ such brat, Grandpa is asking us of our well-being!"
"I got adopted by a family of four, I now have an older brother and a younger sister."
"Damn, that guy is bragging. I wanted Lord General Trudviar to adopt me."
"Keep dreaming, dumbass…"
"Oooh~ burn!"
"Bunch of ignoramuses. Know that I, a newly accepted student of the Academy of Hunts am now your superior!"
"Hey, what is that kid's problem? Too arrogant…"
"Yeah, let's drown him in the mud pit later."
The old elf watches them in silent glee.
The elves have a custom of compulsive adoption. It now carries in this nation of theirs, and it is among the few virtues that the elves hold with great respect and honor. The custom is quite simple too, it only needs mutual consent from both the children and the parents. What makes it compulsive is that the Village Chief has to oversee it and make sure no child grows up without a parent. In this case, the Princess only grows busier by the day.
"I have gifts, for you lot!" Carrying a sack over his shoulder, the old elf reveals toys from the human realm from wooden figurines like horses and knights and even lithe toy swords.
On the eve of invasion of the Urden County, only the old elf had the sense to prioritize the children who in hindsight have become orphans. Now, he shares a close bond with these few elves who now have homes that they can call their own.
"Grandpa! You should meet my new dad! He is ugly and cannot find a wife, but he is so cool!"
"No! Grandpa should meet my mom who is very lonely! Grandpa, can you become my dad?"
"Wow, Granpa, is that a dagger on your waist, and also a book?"
"Grandpa, tell us a story!"
Seeing them elicits extreme joy from his heart. At their beckoning for him to tell them a story, the old elf finally acquiesces and decides to tell them something. He reluctantly looks at his copy of Fae Legends dubious to share the tales within, but in the end, chooses to tell them stories from the book.
Not all of its tales are dark, mind-boggling, and subverts the common thinking. There are tales too suitable for children that he can share without trouble.
Shortly after, he decides to tell that story… One that he himself witnesses in its vain and glory. "Hmmm… Do you really want to hear a story? It will be a dark tale…" He warns with a naughty smile.
The elves gather in a circle, and the hubbub they create is like the beautiful singing of the birds in the forest giving vibrancy to the dull life of the ordinary.
It is mundane and boring, and for every elf in the Dark Forest, this is the best…. "Boring is best…" Momun comments as he returns to their temporary office of work with two young elves around his age at his disposal. Acting as the deputy Police Chief is a great honor and opportunity for him.
"We finished our patrols. Everything is accounted for and, for the past few weeks, the rate of crime continues to decline. I believe that the Police System is working splendidly."
While Momun enjoys it being the deputy, the real and acting Police Chief doesn't like it. Dahlia scatters, and files the new papers that Momun is bringing to her.
"Agh! Why do we have to keep so many records? It has only been a week! And what is this!? I said zero crime rates, right? I am being too ambitious. But what decline!? There should be zero crimes by now! I never knew elves can be so naughty!"
Ignoring her outburst of unreasonable desire for perfection, Momun simply stands there unmoving, similar to the two police officers behind him.
Dahlia, on part of Her Highness's orders, is now the effective Police Chief of the Elf Police. By making Momun deputy, the job did become easier, however, crimes still occur.
"What the hell is this? Dispute between who is more handsome? Trudviar or Varen? Ugh… And this? Someone caught a weak slime monster and tried to eat it? What the fuck is going on? Oh my~ am I reading it right? A female elf confesses her love to another female elf… Aren't they just deviants?"
Clearly, they still have a lot of work to do to refine their organization. From the small tidbits of crimes, it is completely and utterly mundane, and while dull, it is something a rare few will never get to experience.
Such is the mundane.