Everything was going according to plan; maybe even easier than expected. Fewer random blessings flew his way, and those he encountered were simple to handle. Some of his opponents were so untrained they couldn't even manage a bowstring or cast basic spells without delay, making them easy to outmaneuver.
As the sun dipped lower, Olivier looked down at his map, where nine red crosses marked the villages he had already covered. Only one remained. If luck held out, he could reach it before nightfall.
At least, he hoped so.
—
The old man trailed behind his companion, who was wandering aimlessly across the city, from the northern edge to the very south without any sign of stopping. He felt lucky he'd kept a stone that could restore his stamina, or he'd have collapsed by now.
He was dying to ask what the young man was looking for, though he bit his tongue. While he wasn't afraid of angering him again, he did fear what would happen if the other family elders heard of this and decided to meddle. The researchers under his watch depended on stable funding, and if he lost it, all his work would be for nothing.
So he softened his usual brusque demeanor, even pausing to greet acquaintances as he passed. His cheerful greetings nearly gave his colleagues a heart attack, thinking he'd lost his mind.
Meanwhile, the one he followed walked on, head up, taking in deep breaths as if searching for something by scent alone.
The old man sighed. "Well, wandering around is better than another round of destruction."
—
Olivier's path was suddenly blocked by a new obstacle, a group of humans bearing the unmistakable black crow insignia on their gear. No longer mere scouts or informants, these were fully trained agents, which meant something significant was happening nearby.
He needed a way to slip past them without drawing attention. Carefully, he surveyed the area, searching for a potential gap in their guard.
—
Aegnor laid the blueprint out on the table, a satisfied smirk on his face. He'd completed the magic circle ages ago, mastering it to the point he could control its progress with ease. But he kept up the pretense of working hard on it for appearances' sake.
The purpose of the circle was modest: it manifested the vitality of a chosen area, a display without any means of control. For small spaces, the elves could manage on their own, but large-scale manifestations required not only a crowd but also someone knowledgeable in the secret methods, traditionally, the domain of those known as the "elders." This was partly why the pacifist elves couldn't assist humans directly; too much risk of angering those in power.
Satisfied with the day's work, Aegnor leaned back in his chair, enjoying its comfort though he still missed his life in the forest. Playing idly with a small badge, he stifled a yawn and felt a pang of nostalgia for An.
The connection between him and An was mostly unspoken, a relationship of mutual respect rather than declarations of sentiment. Not that there hadn't been moments; An had always looked out for him in ways that touched him deeply. If this had been in the past, he'd have been so overwhelmed he'd nearly have pledged himself to her.
But he could never quite let go of his reservations.
"Ugh," he muttered, flipping the badge in his hand. "I need to punch something."
Olivier almost gave himself away with a sneeze, barely stifling it in time. He wiped his nose, wondering idly if someone was cursing him. But who? After a moment, he shrugged it off, realizing he didn't exactly have a long list of enemies.
Now dressed in a Black Crow uniform, Olivier looked just like the rest of the group. Only a few minutes earlier, he had noticed a team with heavy packs trudging down the road. He had waited until they passed before quietly slipping out from the shadows. He picked up a stone, took aim, and threw it with precision, hitting one man's calf hard. The man yelped in pain and tumbled off the path.
As the rest of the group rushed to help, Olivier moved swiftly, knocking the fallen man unconscious before he had time to recover. Quickly, he slipped into the man's Black Crow coat, pulled the hood low over his face, and rejoined the group, who hadn't noticed his absence. They simply resumed their march, unbothered by his delay.
—
"When's the next supply drop?" asked a man emerging from the elven village.
"It's on its way," someone replied. "Should be here in a few minutes."
The first man nodded, finding a spot to sit. "How's everything going?"
"If there are no issues, we'll wrap it up soon," his companion replied, sighing. "Still don't understand why we're going through all this trouble to manifest 'vitality.'"
"That's the point," said the other, settling in beside him. "If you understood, you wouldn't be working under anyone. You'd have others working under you."
"Fair enough, but it still doesn't make this job any less irritating."
Just then, he pointed to a dark line of figures moving closer. "Look, they're here."
Once the supply team entered the village, everyone silently dropped their packs and dispersed, taking their places to rest. Olivier blended in, taking the opportunity to observe the area "casually." The design and layout, like the mountains around them, had an odd, almost mystical quality that was hard to describe.
"What are you staring at?" came a voice from behind. Olivier's fist clenched reflexively, ready to strike, but he forced himself to relax.
"I was just wondering what this place is all about," he replied, keeping his tone casual. "I've never seen anything like it."
The man shrugged. "No one knows what it really is. You'd have to ask one of the workers here if you're that curious."
"Thanks," Olivier said, feigning nonchalance as he moved on.
—
He stopped in front of an old, run-down shop. It looked like it had been abandoned long ago, the faded sign barely hinting that it once sold drinks. The building was too small to justify the expense of renovating or tearing down, so it had been left to decay. Olivier stared at it, lost in thought, though even he wasn't sure why the place had caught his attention.
Behind him, the old man trailing him felt an odd relief that he'd finally stopped moving. He was close to gasping for breath after following him all day. "He can really walk," the old man muttered to himself.
But he couldn't help but wonder. Why had Olivier stopped here of all places? They had passed many buildings, yet he seemed fixated on this one. The old man frowned, unsettled by the mystery.
—
"Why are you asking about this?" The man before Olivier eyed him suspiciously. "What's it to you?"
"Oh," Olivier stammered, caught off guard. "Just… curious. Never mind, forget I asked."
He turned to leave, but the man stopped him. "It's not that it's a secret; it's just… not complicated enough to warrant much explaining."
"Not complicated?" Olivier echoed, intrigued.
"It's just a magic circle designed to draw out the land's vitality."
There was that word again. "Vitality." It unsettled Olivier, and he found himself frowning, wondering just how deep this simple-sounding concept truly went.