The daily routines and occasional guidance from the teacher were predictable enough for Oliver, but one line had left him unsettled.
"I'll be back, though I might look a bit different. By the way, Oliver, if you're reading this, check the last page."
The last page? Oliver squinted at the cryptic note, flipping back to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Was there something more hidden here?
With a furrowed brow, he fished Aegnor's notebook out of his bag, turning it over in his hands. The pages felt strangely out of sequence. One was missing. Had someone ripped it out? Before he could ponder further, an elf burst through the door, startling him, her face pale with worry.
Her words came in frantic bursts, broken by gasps for air. Through her agitation, Oliver pieced together what had happened. The elves' previous village had been set ablaze. Panic was spreading like wildfire through their ranks.
"Wait," he managed, but she was already heading out, her urgency drawing him to follow. He hurriedly packed his things and sprinted after her.
As they reached the gathering point, the air buzzed with tension. Elves jostled against each other, some glancing anxiously over their shoulders at the rising smoke, others frozen by the waterfall, faces drawn with worry. An acrid smell carried on the wind. The sounds of rustling, shouting, and crackling flames seemed to grow louder.
"Are they coming?" A voice asked quietly beside him. An stood there, gaze fixed on the distant smoke.
Oliver scanned the chaotic scene, assessing the situation. "It's… complicated," he muttered, realizing that the bottleneck was slowing everyone's escape. If things didn't move faster, some of them might still be stranded outside when night fell. Worse, he couldn't spare any of the few fighters among them to ensure the safety of those still trapped.
An turned to him, her expression unreadable. "There's a narrow path over there," she murmured, nodding in its direction. "It'll lead you out of here safely. I need you to guide the others through. Keep them hidden."
He glanced at her, then at the treeline, feeling the weight of the responsibility. This path had to be an emergency escape route, probably hidden for a reason. If anyone turned traitor, knowing about it could put lives at risk. Perhaps that's why An trusted only him to lead them to safety.
"I'll need to check my gear," he said, steeling himself. He knew he wouldn't get any backup out there. He was on his own.
An's gaze softened slightly. "Stay unseen," she cautioned, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded. "Got it."
Just then, smoke began billowing more thickly over the trees, dark plumes marking the destruction. Even from this distance, he could see more fires springing up.
He knew the elves wouldn't survive if they were forced to stay overnight. The enemy could simply set the forest ablaze, and they'd be trapped. Climbing a nearby tree, he scanned the forest in all directions, hoping to catch sight of any threats or escape options. But all he saw was dense smoke drifting on the horizon.
Oliver wasn't one to pray, but even he silently wished for a miracle this time. The night crept closer, yet a handful of elves still hadn't managed to make it through.
A few of them looked up at him, wide-eyed and trembling. They were clearly terrified, and Oliver knew that if he tried to rally them, they might only panic. But if he left them exposed, they'd all be easy targets.
Just then, a voice whispered behind him, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Do you need help?"
He whipped around, heart pounding, until he recognized the invisible figure that had helped him before. He took a steadying breath.
"Actually, yes. Keep an eye on them," he replied, gesturing to the few elves who were still outside the safe zone.
"Wouldn't it be safer for me to go?"
Oliver shook his head. "Panic is our worst enemy right now. The only way to distract them is with a visible target. They won't chase what they can't see."
With that, he didn't wait for a reply. He sprinted toward the forest, heart pounding, hoping he could draw the enemy's attention away from the terrified elves just long enough for them to escape.
"Is it around here?" The leader scanned the forest, turning to the elves flanking him. "Are they heading in this direction?"
"Yes," answered the village chief's grandson, his voice hesitant. "I was knocked out, but I could still sense where they were going before that."
The leader nodded, his gaze sharp. "Then let's press forward."
From his hidden vantage point, Oliver watched the scene unfold, keeping his breath steady as he raised his longbow. His fingers grazed the taut bowstring, and he took aim. The arrow gleamed with a faint silver light as he released it, slicing through the air with deadly precision. An elf who had been deferentially nodding seconds earlier crumpled to the ground, his expression frozen in shock.
So, there's no barrier after all, Oliver thought. A trap, perhaps?
He leapt from his perch in the tree but didn't flee immediately. He couldn't make his intent too obvious. If he ran, the enemy would realize he was deliberately baiting them, drawing them closer to a specific location. This had to look accidental; natural. He needed them to believe he was alone, operating without a plan. It was exhausting work, a fine line to walk.
Somewhere beyond the treetops, An glanced up at the darkening sky, her mind heavy with calculation. If secrecy weren't paramount, she would have called Oliver back ages ago. His life, after all, held greater value than the dozens of others still scattered in the forest, like gold compared to scraps of iron.
She would save whomever she could, of course. But she was not some selfless hero; she was royalty, bound to protect her people's future over the lives of a few stragglers. That's why she had never commented on Aegnor's ruthless decisions. Sometimes, to preserve the peace, a leader must remove those who threaten it.
"Tsk," she muttered to herself, casting a lingering glance toward the horizon.
Meanwhile, in the forest's dense shadows, the leader of the pursuers squinted at Oliver, who was dodging their attacks with surprising agility, weaving around trees as arrows and magic crackled past him. "Not running, is he?" the leader murmured, frowning. Under normal circumstances, any lone defender would have fled by now, which meant this ambush was more than it seemed.
"Perhaps he's buying time," the leader speculated, "letting others surround us." He glanced warily at the dense foliage. Even a single spark in these woods could start a fire, but with enough water element magic or wind to redirect the flames, the enemy might actually turn the fire against them. A misstep could trap them here.
He sighed, annoyed. "Another reason I can't stand forests. Dense, damp, and dark." But, he reasoned, they had narrowed down the enemy's hiding places with their search, and if they retreated now, they could return at dawn with reinforcements.
"Prepare to withdraw," he ordered. His troops glanced around, uncertain, but followed his command.
Hidden nearby, Oliver watched them leave, resisting the impulse to strike. Apart from his initial arrow, he hadn't launched any attacks, preferring to lead them on a quiet chase. He waited in silence for nearly half an hour, only moving when he was certain they had gone.
But even then, he didn't head back directly. Instead, he took a circuitous route, avoiding any chance of being followed.
---
Back at the camp, An was waiting, her expression unreadable as he approached. "Did it go smoothly?"
"Smooth enough," Oliver replied, stretching his neck with a faint crack. "At least, they shouldn't return tonight."
"But tomorrow?" She raised an eyebrow, already sensing his concern.
He glanced toward the waterfall behind them, the steady cascade concealing a narrow entrance. "The gate," he began, "it doesn't close on its own. If they rush us in force or worse, use powder or some kind of sedative, it could get messy."
"Powder?" An looked at him sharply.
He shrugged, leaning against a tree with a sigh. "I don't know what it's called, but it's something that can make the elves sleep soundly," he murmured. With that, he felt the night's weariness begin to settle over him, his eyes heavy. The scent of damp earth filled his senses as he slipped into a much-needed, if uneasy, rest.