"Hey, I have been thinking a lot, and I don't know if asking will get me' self beheaded, so I dare not ask, but… can I ask? Uumm… like just one question only?" Corun, the half-elf merchant, nervously ask the 'full' elf driver of the wagon, a Ratatoskr, they hear.
The young Ratatoskr maintains his eyesight on the road while he guides the horse driving them forward. His silence ekes Corun with fear that he might offend the elf.
"To paradise. I said that already, right?" The elf speaks with pride about this paradise.
Of course, they know. Everyone in the wagon knows. Paradise, they say. But this paradise is yet to have a name making the elf's claim to be dubious. Despite that, Corun decides to join this particular elf while dragging his dumb orc friend Jom-ar. Among the rescued demi-humans, most of them are elve. The only outlier is the half-elf, orc, and the tribal.
"Hey," The tribal woman who has ears for a canine resembling a wolf grabs the elf's shoulder. "Are you sure you are taking us to paradise? Aren't we just heading to our deaths? Don't fool me, I know this route. This is the path to the Dark Forest, correct?"
At the mention of the Dark Forest, Corun feels a cold chill on his spine. The orc has no reaction evident to him simply enjoying the views. However, the other elves who are more receptive to following the 'Ratatoskr' have more animated reactions— there is fear, confusion, and spreading panic.
The elf calmly soothes them with a few words. "The Dark Forest is no longer the same as you guys know before. With the King's Majesty, we elves are able to rediscover ourselves, and with the Princess's guidance, we have become more versatile. His majesty sleeps, and the day he wakes up, the Kingdom will just grow more prosperous."
Kingdom. It is a heavy word that spells authority and power.
"Beastkin, calm down…" Corun addresses the volatile tribal with a degenerate nickname.
"Don't call me Beastkin! My name is Giana!" She hisses at Corun.
Corun observes Giana and the elf carefully. Giana's beastly claws are out and digging into the elf's shoulder, yet the elf remains expressionless ignoring the pain entirely. Corun doesn't know what to feel at the sight of this— should he rejoice at the very rare opportunity of seeing an ascendant tribal or should he feel shocked at the unfeeling elf?
The elf nonchalantly explains as if feeling the emotions and curiosity running in the background of Corun's mind. "It is a drug. I swallowed some magic drug just a few minutes ago. You see, we Ratatoskr are specially trained in detecting emotion. The tribal woman seems a bit agitated so I prepared for the first signs of danger."
Giana shows her little canine fangs and threatens. "I can rip you apart easily with my claws, stop getting cocky. Forget ripping you to pieces, I can just cut up your throat really nicely."
"I advise you not." The elf comfortably drives the wagon smugly say as he looks forward not minding Giana's threats.
However, Giana is not as comfortable as the elf playing coachman as she feels something sharp suddenly on her neck. From her ear, she hears a dangerous warning.
"Don't move, lest you invite this dagger to dig into your throat." The elf woman acting as a 'rescued elf' presses her dagger with more force threatening to slit Giana's throat.
Giana hears a twang and sees an arrow three-finger's length embed itself in the thick wood of the wagon.
"That is a compact crossbow. Light, fast, and powerful… If you manage to miraculously get away from my dagger, I will just shoot you dead. Not to mention, we are already in elven territory. Trust me that the elves' marksmanship is generally good." The elf woman kindly explains mixing a bit of bluff in her words.
Corun feels the tension in the air and he doesn't like it. At times like this, he wants to be like Jom-ar who can soundly sleep going against all expectations. "Man, what a hassle…" He complains.
Trying to mediate the situation, he talks to Giana. "Uummm… Ms. Giana. From what I know, Tribals have linear tattoos on their face, something they receive from their coming of age. Weird. Why do you not have one? Your unique ears tell us you should be an ascendant tribal that your people should revere. Few among tribals have the honor to be born with the gifts of your goddess."
At Corun's words threading from playful rebuke, and implicit prying of her past, Giana angrily redirects her hostility to Corun.
Corun receives the full brunt of it as his eyes remain, meeting Giana's gaze head-on, and with an accusatory tone, he reveals his assumption. "Ms. Giana, my wild guess is you lost your village from a young age, and from there on, you had to survive by yourself which leads you to a lot of things and another, until finally you become a slave."
There can be many reasons, with more specific details. But Corun does not plan to dwell on this more hurtful past other than simply speaking the summary of what he observes. If Corun wills it, he can brazenly throw his assumptions like Giana being kidnapped, getting her village slaughtered, and all kinds of tragedy.
Giana lets go of the elf's shoulder.
Finally, the occupants of the wagon reach their destination. The roar of the rapids of the Great Anisia River is intimidating. A few elves huddle in a corner conversing with each other in small voices. Only Corun, Jom-ar, and Giana are keeping to themselves.
Unlike Corun who has a friend by his side, Giana just seems lonely.
"Hey, why did you choose to come here?"
"Do you need a reason?"
"Well. I am a half-elf. My orc friend here doesn't have an iota of elf blood on him, but I think he is here for me…" The orc chooses silence over his friend's cringe friendship thingy speech.
Corun gazes at the tribal who is oddly quiet. He is expecting a kind of ferocious answer from her. The tribal has dark matte hair, and her wolf ears have gray fur underneath.
"Like I said," Giana sighs. "Do you need a reason?"
Corun finally understands what she means by those words. Does he need a reason to be here? He is broken, weak, and lost. He doesn't have a place to go, so what leaves him is this only available choice.
"The patrol is finally here, this is the proud Einherjars of the Elven Kingdom!"
From the violent waters of the Great Anisia River comes three rafts with two elves each. They serve as a patrol of the Great Anisia River and also the ferrymen who help people cross to paradise.
The two Ratatoskr leaves their charge to the patrol.
Corun simply goes with the flow both figuratively and literally. Most often, he feels like dying over the simplest mistakes. The rapids are strong and hungry for blood, or so he likes to think. Feeling queasy, he vomits near the small port where they dismantle the rafts they use to use the wood as a kindle to the bonfire.
The night is almost upon them.
Morning comes, they have another guide. If the Ratatoskr is the slim cool type, and the Einherjar is the lean masculine type, then a Pilgrim is an old elf.
This is not Corun's first time meeting a Pilgrim. He recalls a granny elf who tries selling him her story-telling in exchange for buying his stock of fruits. Corun in the end acquiesces because he feels bad for the grandma.
"Follow me!" The Pilgrim jubilantly tells them.
Corun observes his surroundings, and his eyes land on the small port where they are loading goods on a newly built raft, Corun finds it interesting because their actions imply trade. The elves have a connection to the human realm.
Their small contingent reaches the entrance of the Elven Kingdom. Since stepping inside the Dark Forest, there are only fears in their hearts, but now, that changes. The sight of the enormous 12-meter gate instills awe in whoever lies their eyes upon it.
It looks dismal because of being wood, but the elves are working hard on remedying the flaws of being susceptible to burning. Corun observes elves tending to the walls as if gardening. This is no longer simply just carpentry.
The vines, most symbiotic plants, and all sorts of vegetation coexist with the wooden fences connecting to the gate. It is as if each and every one of them, the trunks, are alive.
"Welcome to Wylderkeep!" The Pilgrim announces, and with his welcome signal, the gate opens splitting vertically. Corun watches in interest as he sees gnomes milling about and a few fairies prancing and dancing.
Assuming his job as the tour guide, the Pilgrim provides an explanation. "A few gnomes are migrating to the Dark Forest, and the few gnomes you are seeing today are just cozying up on the place finding the best location for their settlement within the conquered domain. Meanwhile, the fairies are simply here because of curiosity. Please have patience with the fairies, they are just merely mischievous.
"Wow, look, an orc!"
"So burly and strong!"
"Eheheh! So big!"
The fairies flock on Jom-ar, but the orc simply swats them away like flies. Corun pales in watching this. Thankfully, the fairies are unharmed as Corun tries his best to rear his friend by threatening him with the consequences of his actions.
The Pilgrim simply laughs at this carefreely. "Be careful though. The penalty for murder is cutting off the limbs and feeding what remains to the monsters of the Dark Forest." However, the contents of his words are not as carefree.
"What happens to the limbs?" Gianna curiously asks.
"The Einherjars use them as bait to catch monsters. They haven't had the opportunity yet though. No one has done murder in the Kingdom yet, after all, hahaha!" The Pilgrim boisterously laughs as if encouraging the new arrivals to commit murder.