The female elf moved swiftly through the forest, her movements as fluid as the wind. She leaped from branch to branch, her feet barely touching the wood before she was airborne again. The forest seemed to bend to her will, the trees offering their limbs as stepping stones, the leaves whispering secrets only she could hear.
But then, something shifted.
As she passed through a seemingly ordinary stretch of air, her body rippled like a stone dropped into water. An illusory field—a barrier woven from ancient magic—revealed itself for the briefest moment, its shimmering surface parting to let her through. To an outsider, the forest would have appeared unchanged. But to her, the world had transformed.
The trees here were taller, their trunks thicker and their canopies denser. Sunlight filtered through the leaves in golden beams, illuminating the forest floor in patches of light and shadow. Nestled among the trees were small cabins and huts, their designs simple yet elegant, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings.
At the center of it all stood the Heartwood—a giant tree so massive it seemed to touch the sky. Its roots protruded from the ground like the legs of a great beast, forming arches and tunnels that led to the heart of the settlement. Built into and around the roots were concrete-like structures, their surfaces etched with intricate elven designs. Spirals, vines, and runes intertwined, telling stories of the past and spells of protection.
Beneath the largest root was a wide, circular platform—a hub of activity. Elves moved about, their voices a melodic hum that blended with the sounds of the forest. Some carried baskets of herbs and fruits, others worked at crafting tables, their hands moving deftly as they wove magic into their creations. Children darted between the roots, their laughter echoing through the air.
The female elf landed gracefully on a branch overlooking the settlement, her sharp eyes scanning the scene below. She took a moment to catch her breath, her mind still lingering on the human she had seen.
"Lira!" a voice called from below, pulling her from her thoughts.
She looked down to see a male elf standing on the platform, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. His hair was a deep green, tied back in a loose braid, and his eyes glinted with amusement.
"You're late," he said, tilting his head. "Again."
Lira rolled her eyes and dropped from the branch, landing lightly on her feet. "I was scouting, Kael. Unlike some of us, I don't have the luxury of lounging around all day."
Kael chuckled, uncrossing his arms and falling into step beside her as she walked toward the Heartwood. "Scouting, huh? Find anything interesting?"
Lira hesitated, her mind flashing back to the human in the clearing. She considered telling Kael, but something held her back. The human was an anomaly, and until she understood what he was doing in the Forbidden Region, she wasn't ready to share her discovery.
"Nothing out of the ordinary," she said, her tone casual. "Just the usual—tracks, signs of predators, the occasional wandering beast."
Kael raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, if you're done playing scout, the elders want to see you. Something about a disturbance in the western sector."
Lira frowned. "A disturbance?"
"Yeah. They didn't give me details, but you know how they are. Always cryptic." He shrugged. "Figured I'd give you a heads-up before you walked in blind."
"Thanks," Lira said, though her mind was already elsewhere. A disturbance in the western sector… Could it be related to the human? She shook the thought away. It was unlikely, but she couldn't ignore the possibility.
As they approached the Heartwood, Lira couldn't help but glance back toward the forest, her thoughts lingering on the clearing and the strange human who had made it his home.
"Something on your mind?" Kael asked, noticing her distraction.
"No," Lira said quickly. "Just… thinking."
Kael gave her a knowing look but said nothing. He knew better than to push when Lira was in one of her moods.
The two of them entered the Heartwood, the air inside cool and fragrant with the scent of wood and earth. The walls were lined with glowing runes, their light casting a soft, ethereal glow. At the center of the chamber stood a group of elders, their faces solemn as they discussed something in low tones.
Lira straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, her expression calm but her mind racing. Whatever the elders wanted, she had a feeling it was only the beginning.
The gazebo-like structure at the heart of the Heartwood was a place of reverence and power. Its floor was made of polished stone, etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly underfoot. The five elders stood at its center, their presence commanding silence and respect. Each elder was clad in robes of deep green and gold, their faces lined with age and wisdom. Their eyes, sharp and piercing, scanned the gathered elves as they spoke in unison.
"Ashullah Hamid," they intoned, their voices resonating like a chorus. They clenched their fists over their hearts and bowed deeply. The surrounding elves, including Lira, followed suit, their movements synchronized in a gesture of unity and respect.
When the elders straightened, the eldest among them—a tall, imposing figure with silver hair and eyes like storm clouds—stepped forward. "My brethren," he began, his voice carrying the weight of centuries, "I have news to inform you. The northern region of the Forbidden Ring, for the first time in 100 years, has caused a disturbance."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Lira's ears twitched as she listened, her mind immediately flashing back to the human she had seen earlier. Could this be connected?
The elder continued, his tone grave. "It may be the Dark Beasts forcing their way through the shield. Albeit, we are solely responsible for investigating this disturbance and determining its cause. If it is indeed the Dark Beasts, we shall contribute our findings to the Elmonia Magic Tower. This will also serve as a cautionary warning to all."
An arrogant elf near the front raised his hand, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Elder, you must not think this is another breach, right? I mean, as we read in the scriptures, the last breach happened 1,500 years ago. This is probably just the beasts scratching an itch on the shield."
A few elves chuckled, the tension momentarily broken. But the laughter died quickly as a female elder stepped forward, her expression stern. "We hope you may be right, youngling," she said, her voice calm but laced with warning. "Otherwise, may Gaia help us all."
The crowd fell silent, the weight of her words settling over them like a heavy blanket. Disbelief and fear flickered across the faces of the gathered elves. The elder who had spoken first raised his hand, silencing the murmurs.
"We will send 20 Elites and 20 volunteers from among you to investigate," he announced. "This is not a task to be taken lightly. Those who are chosen must be prepared for whatever lies beyond the shield."
Lira's hand shot up before she could second-guess herself. "I volunteer," she said, her voice clear and unwavering.
All eyes turned to her, and the murmurs returned, louder this time.
"It's the Rogue," someone whispered.
"The Rogue? What's that?" another asked.
"I heard she doesn't follow the elders' orders," a third voice chimed in.
"It's because of Elder Eloira's death. Her mother."
"Elder Eloira was her mother?"
The whispers grew louder, the crowd's disapproval palpable. Lira clenched her fists, her jaw tightening as she fought to keep her composure. She had expected this reaction, but it still stung.
One of the elders clapped his hands, the sound sharp and commanding. The crowd fell silent instantly. The elder who had spoken first turned to Lira, his gaze piercing. "Lira," he said, his tone measured. "What made you volunteer?"
Lira hesitated. For a moment, she considered revealing the human she had seen in the Forbidden Region. But something held her back. If the elders knew about the human, they might act rashly—or worse, send someone else to investigate. She couldn't risk it. Not yet.
"I… I would like to help," she said finally, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her chest. "For once."
The elder studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to everyone's surprise, he smiled. "Your help is appreciated, Lira," he said. "Your skills will be invaluable."
The crowd erupted into murmurs again, but the elder raised his hand, silencing them once more. "Are there any other volunteers?"
A few hands tentatively went up, but the atmosphere remained tense. Lira could feel the weight of the crowd's judgment pressing down on her, but she stood tall, her resolve unwavering. Whatever was happening in the Forbidden Region, she would find out—and she would do it on her own terms.
As the crowd dispersed, the elders who had stood at the center of the gazebo began to disintegrate into particles of light. One by one, they stepped into the center of the structure, their forms dissolving into shimmering motes that drifted upward and vanished into the air. It was a sight Lira had seen countless times before, but it never failed to fill her with a sense of awe—and unease. The elders were powerful, their connection to the Heartwood and its magic unparalleled. Yet, their presence always felt distant, as if they were already halfway to another realm.
The male elder who had spoken earlier lingered for a moment, his gaze locking onto Lira. He gestured for her to approach, his expression softening as she stepped forward. Lira hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always been wary of the elders, their authority a constant reminder of the expectations she had failed to meet. But there was something different about this elder—something almost paternal in the way he looked at her.
When she reached him, he crouched slightly, bringing himself to her eye level. His voice was low, almost tender, as he spoke. "Lira," he began, "as much as your mother would hate me for agreeing to let you go on this mission, it would serve no purpose to hold you back. You are already matured, more than most realize."
Lira's breath caught in her throat. Her mother's name—Elder Eloira—was rarely spoken aloud, and hearing it now felt like a dagger to her heart. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her emotions in check.
The elder continued, his tone gentle but firm. "The last words your mother said to me were to protect you. And I have tried, Lira. But I know you are not one to be caged. You have your mother's spirit—her strength, her determination. And her stubbornness." He smiled faintly, though his eyes were filled with sorrow.
He reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a necklace. It was simple yet exquisite, a carved wooden moon pendant etched with glowing runes. The runes pulsed faintly, their light casting a soft glow on Lira's face as he handed it to her.
"Wear this," he said. "It will bring you back to the Heartwood should your life be in danger. Your mother would have wanted you to have it."
Lira took the necklace, her fingers trembling as she traced the intricate carvings. The wood was warm to the touch, as if it carried a piece of her mother's essence. She slipped it over her head, the pendant resting against her chest like a second heartbeat.
The elder then reached for something else—a folded bundle of fabric. He unfolded it to reveal a green robe, its fabric shimmering with an otherworldly sheen. The edges were embroidered with silver thread, the patterns forming delicate vines and leaves. Lira's breath hitched as she recognized it.
"This is my mother's…" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Yes," the elder said, his tone heavy with emotion. "This is your mother's robe. She wore it during her most important missions, and it served her well. It is only fitting that it now serves you."
Lira took the robe, her hands trembling as she ran her fingers over the fabric. It felt familiar, as if it still carried the warmth of her mother's embrace. She clutched it to her chest, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
The elder straightened, his expression solemn. "Take care, Lira," he said, his voice echoing with a finality that sent a shiver down her spine. He stepped into the center of the gazebo, his form beginning to dissolve into particles of light. Before he vanished completely, he added, "Your mother would be proud of the elf you've become."
And then he was gone, the last of the light particles fading into the air.
Lira stood alone in the gazebo, the weight of the necklace and the robe pressing heavily on her. She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. Whatever lay ahead—whether it was the Dark Beasts, the disturbance in the Forbidden Region, or the mysterious human—she would face it. Not just for herself, but for her mother.