My Point of View

"Troll, incoming!"

The warning echoed through the Elder Forest like a thunderclap.

I didn't even catch who shouted it.

One moment the forest had been quiet, save for the rustling canopy overhead and the steady rhythm of boots against leaf-covered earth.

The next, an ancient pine exploded outward.

Wood splintered in every direction as something enormous forced its way through the trees.

The ground trembled beneath my boots.

A low, guttural roar rolled through the forest, deep enough that I felt it more than heard it.

My eyes snapped toward the disturbance.

"...Well..."

I muttered.

"...That's definitely a troll."

The creature stood nearly fifteen feet tall.

Its skin resembled cracked gray stone layered over thick cords of muscle. Moss clung to its shoulders, while tangled vines hung from one arm like rotten ropes. One tusk had broken off years ago, leaving only a jagged stump protruding from its lower jaw.

Its tiny yellow eyes burned with animal fury.

In one massive hand it carried an uprooted tree as though it weighed nothing more than a walking stick.

It bellowed again.

The sound sent birds exploding from the treetops.

Elder Aelion moved first.

His calm expression never changed.

"Loose."

The command was barely louder than a whisper.

Yet every elf heard it.

Almost as one, bowstrings sang.

Nearly twenty arrows streaked through the air with frightening precision.

They struck the troll's chest.

Its shoulders.

Its throat.

Its arms.

Several even buried themselves around its eyes.

The creature stumbled backward one step, then roared in annoyance.

Not pain.

Annoyance.

With a violent sweep of one enormous arm, it snapped several arrows protruding from its body before charging again.

"...That's not encouraging."

I heard Emi whisper beside me.

Daisuke was already moving.

Steel flashed.

He dashed forward with incredible speed, his katana carving across the troll's thigh.

The blade bit deep.

Dark blood sprayed across the forest floor.

The troll answered with a backhand swing of its makeshift club.

Daisuke barely managed to leap away before the tree trunk slammed into the earth.

The impact shook the ground beneath us.

Chunks of dirt and shattered roots erupted into the air.

Master Haruna shouted something in Kitsune.

Sora immediately pulled one of the younger elves away from the collapsing section of earth before it could swallow him.

Everyone was moving.

Everyone was fighting.

Yet...

The troll kept coming.

I watched its movements carefully.

The arrows weren't penetrating deeply enough.

The swords could wound it.

But they weren't stopping it.

My hand slowly settled around the grip of my FN 545.

The familiar weight immediately steadied my thoughts.

Behind me, Emi noticed.

"...Alex?"

The pistol slid free of its holster.

Several nearby elves looked toward me.

Their expressions shifted immediately.

Confusion.

One younger elf frowned.

"...What is that?"

Another blinked.

"...A tool?"

Daisuke spared the weapon a quick glance before returning his attention to the troll.

"...You're not planning to fight that with something that small..."

His sentence slowly trailed off.

I never looked away from the charging troll.

"Hopefully..."

I raised the pistol with both hands.

"...Kill it."

Several people actually froze.

The younger elf stared at me as though I'd completely lost my mind.

"...Kill..."

He looked from the troll, back to the pistol.

"...With a piece of metal that fits in one hand?"

"I've killed bigger."

I answered calmly.

"...Though admittedly..."

I exhaled slowly.

"...Not many."

The troll spotted us.

Its roar became deafening.

It lowered its massive shoulders.

Then charged.

Each footstep shook the forest.

Thirty yards.

Twenty five.

Twenty.

The pistol sights settled between its eyes.

Time seemed to slow.

Everything else disappeared.

The shouting.

The panic.

The crashing trees.

There was only the front sight.

The troll's forehead.

My breathing.

The first shot cracked through the forest like lightning.

Every bird within a hundred yards took flight.

The elves visibly flinched.

The troll's head snapped backward.

Before anyone could even react, a second shot.

A third.

A fourth.

A fifth.

Five thunderclaps echoed one after another.

Smoke curled from the muzzle.

The smell of burnt powder filled the air.

The troll staggered.

Its charge faltered.

Five neat holes had appeared across its forehead.

For one impossible heartbeat...

Nothing happened.

Then, the back of its skull erupted outward in a spray of stone-like bone and dark blood.

The enormous body took two more unsteady steps.

Its club slipped from numb fingers.

It crashed into the forest floor with enough force to shake leaves from every nearby tree.

Silence.

Utter silence.

Smoke continued drifting lazily from the end of my pistol.

I lowered it slowly.

"...Huh."

I muttered.

"...Worked."

No one spoke.

Not a single person.

Daisuke stood frozen, katana still raised.

Emi stared at the fallen troll with wide eyes.

Sora looked between the corpse and the pistol several times as though his mind refused to connect the two.

One of the younger elves quietly whispered,

"...Five..."

Another swallowed hard.

"...What..."

His voice barely carried.

"...What was that sound?"

Elder Aelion slowly walked toward the troll.

He knelt beside its massive head.

His fingers gently brushed one of the wounds.

The entrance hole was scarcely larger than the tip of his finger.

He remained there for several long moments.

Studying it.

Thinking.

Finally, he stood.

His emerald eyes settled upon the pistol resting comfortably in my hand.

"...There was no mana."

His words weren't a question.

I shook my head.

"No."

"No spell."

"No."

"No enchantment."

"No."

He looked back toward the troll.

"...Only..."

He searched for the proper words.

"...Force."

"A lot of it."

I admitted.

The younger elf who had questioned me earlier slowly approached.

Keeping a respectful distance from both me...

And the pistol.

"...May..."

He swallowed.

"...May I ask..."

I nodded.

"Sure."

He pointed hesitantly toward the weapon.

"...How...Can something so small..."

His eyes drifted toward the troll's motionless body.

"...Slay something that twenty bows and several blades barely slowed?"

I glanced down at the FN 545 before carefully engaging the safety and holstering it.

"It's a long story."

I smiled faintly.

"...And I have a feeling..."

Looking at the stunned expressions surrounding me...

"...You're all about to have a lot of questions."

For several long moments...

No one moved.

The troll lay motionless where it had fallen, its massive body sprawled across the forest floor. Dark blood slowly pooled beneath its shattered head, soaking into the moss and roots below.

The silence was almost unsettling.

Then...

The elves began moving.

Not cautiously.

Curiously.

Several knelt beside the troll, their expressions no longer those of warriors, but of scholars. One carefully removed an arrow still lodged in the creature's shoulder, examining the depth it had penetrated. Another ran practiced fingers over the thick hide, quietly discussing the density of the muscle beneath.

"...Remarkable." One murmured.

Another carefully inspected the troll's forehead.

"...There are only five wounds."

"...Yes. But..."

He gently brushed a finger around one of the tiny holes.

"...Where is the rest of the damage?"

Sora wandered over as well, curiosity overcoming caution.

The healer knelt beside the troll's head, completely forgetting the battle had ended only moments ago.

He leaned close, carefully parting the creature's coarse hair before examining one of the entry wounds.

His brow furrowed.

"...That..."

He muttered.

"...doesn't make any sense."

One of the elves looked toward him.

"What do you see?"

Sora slowly traced the edge of the wound with one finger.

"The entrance..."

He glanced back at me.

"...is barely larger than my little finger."

He looked toward the opposite side of the skull.

"...But the inside..."

His expression shifted from confusion to genuine disbelief.

"...The inside is gone."

Several more elves immediately gathered around him.

One of them carefully opened the troll's mouth.

Another examined the shattered back of the skull.

A third quietly cast what appeared to be a diagnostic spell.

Soft green mana drifted over the wound before disappearing inside.

His eyes widened.

"...The brain..."

He looked at Elder Aelion.

"...It's almost completely destroyed."

Another scholar slowly stood.

"...How can such a small wound cause such catastrophic damage?"

Sora looked toward me.

"...Alex..."

He held two fingers barely an inch apart.

"...These holes are tiny."

His hand then gestured toward the ruined interior of the skull.

"...But the damage inside..."

He shook his head.

"...It's as though something exploded."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Yeah. That's basically what happened."

Every head turned toward me.

Even Elder Aelion slowly approached.

His emerald eyes held no fear.

Only curiosity.

"I believe..."

He said calmly.

"...I have many questions."

I couldn't help smiling.

"I figured."

I looked around at the gathered elves and Kitsune.

"It's... a chemistry thing."

Blank stares answered me.

"...Right."

I sighed.

"I forgot nobody here knows what chemistry is."

Emi tilted her head.

"...Should we?"

"Probably."

I laughed softly.

"My world's entire civilization is built on understanding it."

That immediately caught the scholars' attention.

Several brushes appeared almost magically from robes.

Parchment followed.

One scholar actually sat down on a nearby log.

Ready to take notes.

I blinked.

"...You're writing this down?"

The elderly elf looked almost offended.

"...Of course."

"...Fair enough."

I cleared my throat.

"The weapon itself..."

I rested one hand on the grip of my holstered FN 545.

"...I know how to make another one."

Several ears perked up.

"But..."

I held up a finger.

"...I don't have the tools."

I shrugged helplessly.

"And even if I did, I don't have the equipment necessary to manufacture the important parts."

I gave a crooked smile.

"So... I'm pretty much, SOL."

Several elves exchanged confused glances.

Elder Aelion raised one elegant eyebrow.

"...SOL?"

I scratched my cheek.

"...Human expression."

He waited.

"It means..."

I coughed awkwardly.

"...Shit out of luck."

Silence.

One younger elf blinked.

"...I see."

Another quietly wrote something onto his parchment.

I noticed.

"...Please don't write that down."

"...Too late."

The scholar answered without looking up.

I sighed dramatically.

"...Wonderful."

That earned a few quiet chuckles.

The tension eased considerably.

I continued.

"Anyway, the simplest explanation..."

I crouched beside the troll's head.

Picking up a fallen arrow.

I held it up.

"This works because the bow stores energy."

I mimed drawing a bowstring.

"You pull. The wood bends. The string stretches. When you release it..."

I flicked the arrow forward.

"All that stored energy throws the arrow."

Several elves nodded.

"Yes."

"We understand that."

"Good."

I gently laid the arrow down.

"Now imagine..."

I picked up a small pebble from the ground.

"...instead of bending wood, you create an extremely fast chemical reaction."

Several puzzled looks appeared.

"It happens inside a small metal chamber. The reaction creates an enormous amount of hot gas."

I cupped both hands together.

"The gas has nowhere to go, except forward."

I slowly pushed the pebble away from my palm.

"So it launches a small piece of metal..."

I pointed toward the troll.

"...Far...Far faster than any bow ever could."

One elf frowned.

"...How much faster?"

I thought for a moment.

"...Fast enough..."

I smiled sheepishly.

"...That by the time you hear the sound, the projectile has already arrived."

Silence.

The scholars immediately began writing again.

Elder Aelion remained perfectly still.

His eyes drifted toward the troll once more.

"...So the true weapon..."

He murmured.

"...Is not the metal."

I smiled.

"No. The chemistry."

He nodded slowly.

"...A controlled explosion."

"...Exactly."

The elder looked thoughtfully toward the forest canopy overhead.

"...Your world..."

He said quietly.

"...Appears remarkably talented, at finding new ways to throw things."

I couldn't help laughing.

"...That's..."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Honestly one of the most accurate descriptions of human history I've ever heard."

Even several of the elves smiled at that.

For several moments, no one said anything.

The only sounds were the quiet scratching of charcoal and brushes against parchment as the elven scholars hurried to record everything I'd just explained.

One of them wasn't even looking at his notes anymore.

His eyes remained fixed on my holstered pistol.

"...You said..."

He began slowly.

"...that the explosion occurs inside the weapon."

"Yep."

"And it survives?"

"Also yep."

He looked genuinely puzzled.

"...Repeatedly?"

I nodded.

"Hundreds of times, if it's built well."

Several eyebrows immediately shot upward.

"...Hundreds?"

I shrugged.

"Some can fire thousands of rounds before needing major repairs."

That statement caused nearly every scholar present to stop writing.

Even Elder Aelion looked surprised.

"...Thousands..."

he repeated quietly.

"...From one weapon?"

"Assuming you have enough ammunition."

Blank stares.

"...Right."

I sighed.

"Different topic."

That earned a few quiet chuckles.

One of the older scholars carefully stepped toward me.

He carried himself with the confidence of someone who had spent centuries studying things that didn't make sense.

"...May I?"

He gestured politely toward the pistol.

I hesitated.

Not because I didn't trust him.

Because...

This wasn't just a weapon.

It was the only modern firearm I had.

If something happened to it...

I couldn't replace it.

"...You can look."

I finally answered.

"But don't point it at anyone."

He frowned.

"...Even unloaded?"

"Especially unloaded."

Several Kitsune looked confused.

I smiled faintly.

"It's an old rule from home."

I carefully drew the pistol from its holster.

The polished slide caught the afternoon sunlight.

Before handing it over, I removed the magazine.

Several elves flinched at the unfamiliar metallic sound.

Then I locked the slide open.

Another sharp metallic clack echoed through the clearing.

I tilted the pistol slightly.

"Empty."

Only then did I offer it grip-first.

The scholar accepted it with extraordinary care.

As though he feared it might suddenly explode in his hands.

He turned it over slowly.

Examining every surface.

"...Steel."

He murmured.

"No."

I corrected.

"Mostly steel."

"A few parts are different metals."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"...Interesting."

Another scholar leaned closer.

"There are no runes."

"No."

"No enchantments."

"No."

"No mana."

"No."

He blinked.

"...Then why is it so complicated?"

I laughed.

"Because engineers are strange people."

That earned several confused looks.

"They solve problems..."

I continued.

"...By making other problems."

Even Elder Aelion chuckled quietly at that.

The elderly scholar slowly ran one finger along the slide.

"...Everything fits together so precisely."

He looked genuinely impressed.

"There is almost no space between the moving pieces."

I smiled.

"That's intentional."

"So it doesn't waste energy?"

"Exactly."

He looked up.

"...You understand its construction?"

"Enough."

"You built this one?"

I shook my head.

"No."

"I bought it."

"...Bought?"

"Someone else built it."

That seemed to surprise everyone.

One younger elf frowned.

"...Then there are craftsmen, whose sole profession, is creating these?"

"Oh yeah."

I nodded.

"Entire companies."

"...Companies?"

"Groups of people. Some design them. Some machine the parts. Others assemble them. Others inspect them. They spend their entire lives making weapons."

Silence settled over the clearing once more.

The scholars were already writing furiously again.

Sora finally looked up from the troll.

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

"If this weapon is capable of killing something like a troll so quickly..."

He hesitated.

"...Why hasn't your world destroyed itself?"

I blinked.

"...Who says we haven't?"

Silence.

"...What?"

I sighed quietly.

"My world..."

I looked down at the pistol.

"...Has had wars unlike anything you've ever imagined."

No one interrupted.

"Hundreds. Thousands. Sometimes millions."

I swallowed.

"These..."

I gently took the pistol back.

"...Changed warfare forever."

The clearing had become deathly quiet.

"Armor stopped mattering."

I continued.

"Castle walls eventually stopped mattering."

I looked around at the gathered elves.

"The strongest knight, the greatest swordsman, the finest archer..."

I slowly holstered the pistol.

"...Could all be killed by someone with enough training and one of these."

Nobody spoke.

Because there wasn't really anything to say.

Elder Aelion finally broke the silence.

"...Your world."

His voice remained calm.

"...Must be a frightening place."

I smiled sadly.

"...Sometimes."

He nodded once.

"I believe..."

He looked toward the troll.

"...Our worlds have walked different paths."

"I think so too."

He folded his hands into his sleeves.

"We spent centuries perfecting the bow."

He glanced toward my pistol.

"Your people, perfected controlled explosions."

I laughed despite myself.

"...When you put it like that..."

He smiled.

"...It sounds rather absurd."

"It really does."

One of the younger elves, who hadn't looked away from the pistol once, finally spoke.

"...Could anyone learn to use it?"

I thought for a moment.

"...Yes."

That surprised them.

"It takes training."

I clarified.

"A lot of training. But you don't need magic. You don't need unusual strength. You don't need special blood."

I shrugged.

"If you can learn, you can use it."

Emi slowly looked toward me.

"...That's..."

She searched for the word.

"...Equal."

I smiled.

"Yeah."

She fell silent.

The implications were obvious.

Magic was talent.

Swordsmanship demanded years of practice and physical ability.

Archery required tremendous discipline.

But this...

This leveled the field in a way they'd never considered.

Elder Aelion noticed everyone's expressions.

"...Which..."

He said calmly.

"...Makes wisdom even more important."

Every eye turned toward him.

"A weapon..."

He continued.

"...Does not decide who it serves."

He looked directly at me.

"The hand holding it does."

I met his gaze.

"...Exactly."

The elder smiled faintly.

"I find that..."

He glanced one last time at the troll lying motionless at our feet.

"...Far more reassuring, than the weapon itself."

No one disagreed.

For a while, we simply stood there together in the quiet forest, the dead troll between us. A reminder that knowledge, whether born of magic or chemistry, was never inherently good or evil. It was the choices of the people who wielded it that mattered most.

The silence lingered only a little longer.

Eventually, Elder Aelion looked away from the troll and drew in a slow breath.

"...Our destination still awaits."

The old elf looked around at the gathered volunteers.

"We should continue."

One by one, everyone nodded.

The scholars reluctantly packed away their notes, though more than one of them stole another glance toward my holstered FN 545.

I had a feeling I'd be answering questions about firearms for quite some time.

The troll, meanwhile...

Was left exactly where it had fallen.

I noticed that.

"...We're just leaving it?"

One of the hunters beside Elder Aelion nodded.

"The forest will reclaim it."

I looked at the massive corpse.

"...Nothing's going to eat that?"

A faint smile crossed the elder's face.

"Oh..."

He looked toward the dense forest surrounding us.

"...Something certainly will."

Almost as if the woods had been waiting...

A distant howl echoed between the trees.

Not a wolf.

Something...

Different.

Lower.

Deeper.

It sent a chill crawling up my spine.

One of the Kitsune hunters quietly adjusted the spear slung across his back.

"...We're being watched."

"We always are."

Elder Aelion replied calmly.

"The Elder Forest is rarely empty."

Nobody seemed especially alarmed.

Alert?

Absolutely.

Afraid?

Not at all.

Apparently this was normal.

That was somehow more unsettling.

Our group reformed.

The elves naturally took the lead.

The Kitsune volunteers followed behind them.

The warriors spread themselves along the outer edges of the column.

Not because anyone had ordered them to.

It simply...

Happened.

Centuries of instinct.

I found myself walking beside Daisuke once again.

He glanced toward me.

"...You really weren't exaggerating."

"About?"

"The troll."

"I wasn't."

"I've hunted them twice."

He scratched the back of his neck.

"Both times..."

He laughed awkwardly.

"...It took nearly twenty warriors."

"I noticed."

"You killed it before it reached us."

"I noticed that too."

He laughed.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that."

"I don't think I will either."

That earned another laugh.

The trail gradually narrowed.

Towering trees swallowed the sunlight overhead.

Massive roots twisted across the forest floor like the backs of sleeping dragons.

Some trunks were so wide that four or five people probably couldn't have wrapped their arms around them.

Moss covered nearly every exposed surface.

The air smelled rich.

Earth.

Pine.

Fresh rain.

Even though it hadn't rained in days.

Small streams crossed our path every few hundred yards.

Each one was so clear I could see tiny silver fish darting between smooth stones.

Birdsong echoed high above us.

Sometimes close.

Sometimes impossibly distant.

The deeper we walked...

The more alive the forest became.

Not noisy.

Simply...

Present.

Emi slowly walked beside me.

Notebook already in hand.

"...May I ask another question?"

I smiled.

"I figured you would."

She ignored the teasing.

"The weapon. The chemistry. The explosion."

She glanced toward my FN 545.

"...Would magic make it stronger?"

I thought about it for a moment.

"...Maybe."

She blinked.

"You've never tried?"

"Not with the pistol."

My hand drifted instinctively toward the large revolver resting across my chest.

"The RSh-12 is already enchanted."

Several of the nearby elves looked toward it immediately.

"I forged enchantments into that one a while ago. It doesn't simply fire bullets anymore. It acts as a magical catalyst."

Emi's brush immediately began moving.

"...A catalyst?"

I nodded.

"It channels mana through the weapon. The enchantments amplify the spell being cast. I've even seen it accept more than one type of mana at the same time."

Elder Aelion's ears twitched ever so slightly.

"...Interesting."

I continued.

"But this..."

I tapped the grip of the FN 545.

"...is different. This one's almost entirely mechanical. Steel. Springs. Chemistry. The enchantments aren't part of the weapon."

I frowned thoughtfully.

"...Though..."

"Magic could probably improve it."

Emi looked up.

"How?"

"Reinforce the barrel. Strengthen the chamber. Reduce recoil. Protect the metal from heat."

I counted them off on my fingers.

"You could even enchant the ammunition itself."

The scholars surrounding us had already resumed writing.

"So..."

Emi asked.

"...Technology and magic don't compete. They complement each other."

"Exactly."

I smiled.

"My world solved problems without mana. This world solves problems with mana. I don't see any reason the two can't work together."

Elder Aelion smiled faintly without turning around.

"...That..." He said quietly. "...is the purpose of diplomacy."

Hours passed.

Conversation came and went naturally.

Sometimes someone asked me about Earth.

Other times I asked about the forest.

It turned out the Elder Forest was older than nearly every kingdom on the continent.

According to Elder Aelion...

Some trees had stood here for over three thousand years.

"...Three thousand..."

I looked upward.

"...That's older than most civilizations."

"It is."

"They've seen entire kingdoms rise and disappear."

He gently rested one hand against the bark of a nearby cedar.

"My people believe trees remember."

I tilted my head.

"...Literally?"

He smiled.

"...Perhaps."

That...

Sounded suspiciously like he knew something he wasn't saying.

By midday, we stopped beside a crystal clear stream.

No one announced a break.

Everyone simply...

Sat down.

The elves immediately began refilling water skins.

The Kitsune hunters checked their equipment.

Emi...

Started sketching leaves.

I watched her for a second.

"...Research?"

She nodded.

"This species doesn't grow near the sanctuary."

"...You're drawing plants during lunch?"

She looked confused.

"...Of course."

I laughed.

"...You and Lady Sayuri would get along."

"I hope so."

She answered earnestly.

"...She's one of the greatest scholars alive."

I smiled to myself.

"...You have no idea."

The meal itself was simple.

Dried meat.

Fresh berries gathered along the trail.

Bread.

Cheese.

One elf somehow managed to identify nearly every edible plant within arm's reach.

Another brewed tea from leaves he'd collected less than five minutes earlier.

I accepted a cup.

"...Thanks."

"It helps with fatigue."

I took a sip.

"...That's actually really good."

He smiled.

"The forest provides."

The afternoon passed beneath increasingly ancient trees.

Eventually...

Even the conversations began dying away.

Not because anyone was tired.

Because...

Something about the forest encouraged silence.

The birds became fewer.

The breeze softer.

Even our footsteps somehow sounded quieter.

I found myself instinctively lowering my voice.

"...Does anybody else feel that?"

Daisuke nodded immediately.

"...Yeah. The forest feels..."

He searched for the word.

"...Older."

Elder Aelion glanced back.

"You are beginning to notice."

"Notice what?"

"The Elder Forest."

"...What about it?"

He smiled.

"It notices you."

Nobody laughed.

Nobody even smiled.

Because somehow...

Every single person present understood he wasn't joking.

A strange sensation crept across my skin.

Not fear.

Not danger.

More like...

The unmistakable feeling of being watched.

Not by predators.

Not by enemies.

By the forest itself.

The deeper we walked...

The stronger that feeling became.

Nearly an hour later, Elder Aelion finally stopped.

He raised one hand.

The entire group halted instantly.

No one spoke.

No one asked why.

I stepped around Daisuke, looking ahead.

At first...

I didn't understand what I was seeing.

Then my eyes adjusted.

The forest...

Ended.

Not abruptly.

Gracefully.

Beyond the last line of colossal trees lay an enormous valley bathed in soft golden light.

Wildflowers stretched as far as I could see.

Crystal streams wound lazily through emerald grass.

Ancient white trees stood scattered across the valley like silent guardians.

At its center...

Built into the living forest itself...

Rose an elven city unlike anything I'd ever imagined.

No walls.

No towers of stone.

No harsh angles.

Homes were grown into enormous trees rather than carved from them.

Elegant bridges of living wood connected one great tree to another high above the ground.

Waterfalls cascaded from impossible heights, feeding shimmering pools below.

The entire city seemed less constructed...

And more...

Invited into existence.

Sunlight reflected from leaves of silver and emerald.

Colorful banners drifted gently in the breeze.

Somewhere in the distance...

A bell rang.

Its clear tone echoed across the valley.

Nobody beside me spoke.

Finally...

I found my voice.

"...That's..."

I swallowed.

"...One of the most beautiful places I've ever seen."

A faint smile crossed Elder Aelion's face.

He looked not at the city...

But at our reactions.

"...Welcome..."

he said softly,

"...to Elarion."

He let the name linger in the air.

"...The First City."

Even the wind seemed to fall silent in reverence.

For several long moments...

None of us moved.

The city simply...

Existed.

It wasn't merely beautiful.

It was harmonious.

Nothing appeared forced.

Every bridge curved naturally between the colossal white trees as though the branches themselves had chosen to support it. Homes nestled within living trunks without a single scar marring the bark. Vines draped from balconies, flowering in vibrant blues and silvers, while streams meandered beneath crystal walkways, their waters so clear they reflected the sky like polished glass.

The entire place felt...

Old.

Not ancient in the sense of ruins.

Ancient in the sense that it had grown into itself over thousands of years.

Elder Aelion finally stepped forward.

"Come."

Our little group followed.

As we descended the gently winding path into the valley, more details revealed themselves.

Children chased one another across rope bridges suspended between enormous branches.

Garden terraces climbed the hillsides, filled with herbs and fruit trees instead of grain.

Smithies weren't hidden away in smoke-filled corners, but built into open pavilions where fresh air carried away the heat.

Everywhere...

Music.

Someone played a stringed instrument somewhere high above.

Its melody drifted lazily through the city like the wind itself.

"...It's beautiful."

I muttered.

Aelion heard me.

"It was never built."

I looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

"It grew."

He rested one hand against a living handrail as we crossed another bridge.

"Our ancestors planted the first trees."

He smiled softly.

"The city simply continued the work."

As we entered the outer district...

Conversations gradually slowed.

Not stopped.

Slowed.

One elf looked up from carving a piece of wood.

Then another.

A woman carrying a basket of fruit paused mid-step.

Two children chasing each other froze.

One pointed directly at me.

"...Mother..."

he whispered.

The woman followed his finger.

Her eyes widened.

"...A human..."

The words spread almost immediately.

Not shouted.

Whispered.

Like ripples across still water.

"...Human..."

"...Is that really..."

"...Impossible..."

"...I thought they lived far to the south."

"...With the kingdoms."

"...Why is he here?"

Within a minute...

Nearly everyone we passed had turned to watch us.

Not with hostility.

Curiosity.

Pure, unfiltered curiosity.

I quietly leaned toward Daisuke.

"...Am I imagining it, or are they all staring?"

He didn't even try to hide his smile.

"They're staring."

"I was hoping you'd say I was imagining it."

"No."

He chuckled.

"They're definitely staring."

Wonderful.

One elderly elf stood outside what appeared to be a bakery.

He squinted at me for several seconds.

Then looked toward Elder Aelion.

"...Is that..."

Aelion nodded once.

"It is."

The old baker slowly removed his glasses.

Wiped them carefully with his apron.

Put them back on.

Looked again.

"...Huh."

He muttered.

"I was certain my eyesight had finally failed."

That earned quiet laughter from several nearby elves.

The farther we walked, the larger the crowd became.

Nobody blocked our path.

Nobody rushed us.

They simply...

Walked alongside at a respectful distance.

Watching.

Studying.

Children, however...

Had considerably less restraint.

One little girl with bright silver hair tugged gently on her father's sleeve.

"...Can I ask him something?"

The father looked embarrassed.

"I don't believe now is..."

"You may."

Elder Aelion interrupted kindly.

The little girl immediately hurried over.

She couldn't have been older than seven.

She stopped a few feet in front of me.

Looked up.

Way up.

"...You're tall."

I smiled.

"I've heard that."

She tilted her head.

"...Do humans always wear dragon scales?"

I looked down at my armor.

"...Usually not. So..."

I gestured toward Daisuke.

"...I'm the weird one."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"...Okay."

That answer seemed to satisfy her.

She hurried back to her father.

"...He's nice."

I heard her whisper.

Her father smiled sheepishly.

"...So it would seem."

Another voice spoke up.

This one older.

"...Master Aelion."

An elderly woman slowly approached our group.

Unlike the others, she didn't look surprised.

Merely...

Interested.

Her silver hair reached nearly to her waist, braided with small white flowers.

Long emerald robes flowed elegantly around her.

She carried no staff.

No weapon.

Yet...

Everyone nearby respectfully stepped aside.

She stopped directly before me.

Studying my face.

Then...

To my complete surprise...

She reached up.

Placed one weathered hand against my cheek.

"...Warm."

She murmured.

I blinked.

"...Uh..."

She smiled.

"I wished to confirm."

I looked toward Aelion.

"...Should I ask?"

He chuckled.

"This is Elder Lysandra. The oldest botanist in our city."

Lysandra nodded absently.

"I have studied humans."

She said matter of factly.

"...On paper."

She gently patted my shoulder.

"I prefer this version."

Several nearby elves laughed.

She began circling me slowly.

Not unlike Lady Sayuri had.

Though somehow...

It felt less like a medical examination.

And more like someone admiring a rare plant.

"...Interesting proportions."

She murmured.

"Broader shoulders. Denser musculature."

She tapped one of my hands.

"...Calluses."

I held up both hands.

"...Years of work."

"I believe it."

She nodded approvingly.

"...Good."

She looked directly into my eyes.

"...Do humans truly possess such short lives?"

I hesitated.

"...Depends."

"Average?"

I smiled faintly.

"...Back home? If we're lucky, around eighty years."

The smiles around us faded.

Several younger elves blinked.

"...Eighty?"

One whispered.

"...Only eighty?"

Another frowned.

"...That's barely adulthood."

Lysandra looked genuinely saddened.

"...How unfortunate."

I chuckled quietly.

"...Trust me. When you only have eighty years, you get pretty good at making them count."

That...

Made several expressions soften.

As we resumed walking, I overheard another conversation.

"...He's smiling."

"...I expected someone frightening."

"...Why?"

"...He's human."

"...So?"

"...I don't know."

"...You've never met one either."

"...Exactly."

I couldn't help smiling.

Apparently...

Humans were just as mysterious to elves, as elves had once been to me.

Eventually, the broad avenue opened into an enormous circular plaza.

At its center stood the largest tree I'd seen since entering the Elder Forest.

Its trunk rivaled a castle keep in width.

Silver-white bark shimmered beneath the afternoon sun.

Golden leaves rustled high above, filling the air with a gentle whisper that somehow reminded me of distant voices.

Built seamlessly into the living trunk...

Rose an immense structure of polished wood, living branches, and crystal windows.

Elegant staircases spiraled upward around the tree itself.

Dozens of bridges connected it to neighboring towers grown from equally ancient trees.

Elder Aelion stopped.

Turning toward us.

"This..."

He said quietly.

"...Is the Hall of Roots."

I looked up.

"...That's..."

I slowly shook my head.

"...I don't even have words."

Aelion smiled.

"You will."

His emerald eyes shifted toward the great doors.

"They are already waiting."

As if summoned by his words...

The towering doors of living wood slowly swung inward.

And from within...

A dozen figures emerged.

Every one of them wore robes embroidered with silver leaves.

Several carried ancient staffs carved from white wood.

Others bore scrolls tucked beneath their arms.

They descended the broad staircase with measured, dignified steps.

The eldest among them, his long silver hair reaching nearly to his knees, came to a stop before Elder Aelion.

He inclined his head.

"Welcome home, old friend."

Then...

His eyes moved past the Kitsune volunteers.

Past Daisuke.

Past Emi.

Until they settled on me.

He became very still.

For several heartbeats...

He simply looked.

Then...

Very slowly...

A smile spread across his weathered face.

"...Well..."

he said, his voice carrying easily across the now-silent plaza.

"...It would seem the forest has developed a sense of humor."

A ripple of quiet laughter passed through the assembled elders.

The silver-haired elf continued studying me with undisguised curiosity.

"...Or..."

His smile widened just a fraction.

"...It has decided that four thousand years of predictability have become rather boring."

I looked at the ancient elf for a long moment.

His smile hadn't faded.

Neither had the unmistakable intelligence in his eyes.

There was something almost unsettling about him.

Not because he seemed dangerous.

Because he seemed...

Timeless.

The kind of person who had watched civilizations rise and fall with the same quiet patience most people reserved for changing seasons.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"...Du bist alt. Herrgott noch mal."

For the first time since we'd arrived...

The elf's smile faltered.

Not from offense.

From curiosity.

One elegant eyebrow slowly rose.

Around us...

Several elves exchanged confused glances.

The Kitsune looked equally puzzled.

Even Elder Aelion tilted his head slightly.

"...My..."

The silver-haired elf said thoughtfully.

"...What an interesting language."

His voice carried the calm cadence of someone who had spent a lifetime listening before speaking.

He studied me with renewed interest.

"...What did you say?"

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...You sure you want the honest translation?"

A faint smile returned.

"I generally prefer honesty."

"...Fair enough."

I shrugged.

"I said..."

I cleared my throat.

"...'You're old. Jesus Christ.'"

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Somewhere behind me...

Someone inhaled sharply.

Another elf nearly dropped the scroll he was carrying.

One of the younger scholars looked as though he'd forgotten how to breathe.

A Kitsune volunteer quietly muttered,

"...He didn't..."

"...He absolutely did."

The whispers spread almost immediately.

"...Did the human just call Elder Thalion old?"

"...To his face?"

"...Is he trying to get himself exiled?"

"...Killed?"

"...Both?"

I resisted the urge to look behind me.

Probably best not to see everyone's expressions.

The elder himself...

Didn't look offended.

Not even slightly.

Instead...

He slowly folded his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe.

"...Interesting."

He murmured.

I blinked.

"...That's all you've got?"

He chuckled softly.

"I have been called many things."

His smile widened by the smallest amount.

"'Old' is among the more accurate."

That...

Wasn't the response I'd expected.

Apparently...

I wasn't the only one.

Several nearby elves stared openly now.

One younger council member leaned toward another.

"...Did he just, agree?"

"...I believe he did."

The elder continued studying me.

"...That language."

He said.

"I have never heard its like."

"It isn't from this world."

I answered honestly.

"It comes from my home world."

He nodded slowly.

"The pronunciation is..."

He searched briefly for the proper word.

"...Unusual."

"I've been told."

"What is it called?"

"German."

He carefully repeated it.

"...Ger...man."

The unfamiliar syllables rolled awkwardly from his tongue.

"...Curious."

He looked genuinely intrigued now.

"Would I be correct in assuming..."

He gestured lightly with one hand.

"...That your people possess many languages?"

I smiled.

"Oh yeah."

"Quite a few."

"How many?"

I thought about it.

"...Thousands."

The plaza became deathly quiet.

"...Thousands?"

One scholar whispered.

I nodded.

"Some are spoken by millions."

"Others..."

I shrugged.

"...Only a handful of people."

The elder's eyes brightened.

"...Remarkable."

"There are entire nations that cannot understand one another."

I continued.

"Sometimes neighboring villages speak differently enough that conversations get... interesting."

That earned a few quiet laughs.

"...Language."

The elder mused.

"...Shapes thought."

"It does."

"And different languages..."

He continued.

"...Encourage different ways of viewing the world."

I nodded.

"I'd agree with that."

He smiled.

"I believe..."

He looked almost pleased.

"...You and I shall have many conversations."

Before I could answer...

Elder Aelion quietly cleared his throat.

"My old friend."

The silver-haired elf glanced toward him.

"You have not introduced yourself."

"...Ah."

He looked back at me.

"An unfortunate oversight."

Straightening ever so slightly, he inclined his head, not deeply, but respectfully.

"I am Elder Thalion. First Speaker of Elarion. Warden of the Hall of Roots. And..."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"...Apparently, quite old."

That finally broke the tension.

Laughter rippled through the plaza.

Not loud.

Warm.

Even the younger elves who had looked horrified moments earlier relaxed.

I couldn't help laughing myself.

"Alex."

I said, offering my hand.

"My name's Alex."

Thalion looked down at my outstretched hand.

Then toward Elder Aelion.

"...Another human custom?"

"It is."

Aelion nodded.

The elder regarded my hand thoughtfully for another second.

Then...

To everyone's surprise...

He reached out.

His grip was surprisingly firm.

Not the frail grasp I'd expected from someone who looked ancient.

The hand of someone who had worked for centuries.

"...Welcome to Elarion, Alex."

His eyes twinkled with quiet amusement.

"And thank you."

I frowned.

"...For what?"

His smile widened.

"For reminding me..."

He gave my hand one gentle shake before releasing it.

"...That after nearly four thousand years, someone can still surprise me."

Another wave of laughter spread through the plaza.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...Glad I could help."

"...Though next time..."

Thalion added with impeccable composure.

"...Perhaps begin with 'hello' before informing someone they've become ancient."

Even Elder Aelion laughed aloud at that one.

The laughter lingered long after the joke had ended.

Not because it had been particularly clever.

Because...

It was unexpected.

Apparently, it had been quite some time since anyone had managed to surprise Elder Thalion.

As the laughter gradually faded, Thalion continued studying me with the same quiet curiosity he'd shown from the moment we'd met.

Not suspicion.

Not caution.

Curiosity.

The sort possessed by someone who had dedicated centuries to learning.

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

"You speak honestly."

I blinked.

"I try to."

"You also appear incapable of disguising your thoughts."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...That too."

A ripple of amused chuckles spread through the nearby elves.

Thalion nodded thoughtfully.

"I appreciate both qualities."

"They occasionally get me into trouble."

"I imagine they do."

His smile widened ever so slightly.

He slowly began walking toward the Hall of Roots.

Without being asked...

We followed.

The immense doors stood open before us.

Carved from pale living wood, they reached nearly thirty feet into the air.

Silver vines had grown naturally through the carvings over countless centuries.

Not a single nail held them together.

Not a single iron hinge.

The entire structure seemed...

Alive.

As we crossed the threshold...

Cool air greeted us.

Sunlight poured through enormous windows high above, illuminating countless suspended walkways that circled the interior of the colossal tree.

Books.

Everywhere.

Shelves climbed higher than I could comfortably see.

Some were carved directly into the living wood.

Others rested upon elegant balconies connected by narrow staircases.

Thousands...

No.

Hundreds of thousands...

Of books and scrolls filled the immense hall.

The scent struck me immediately.

Old parchment.

Fresh ink.

Cedar.

Leather.

It smelled...

Like knowledge.

I smiled without realizing it.

"...This place is incredible."

One of the younger scholars overheard me.

"Proud of it."

He admitted with a grin.

"We've been collecting books for a very long time."

"I believe that."

Several elves resumed their work almost immediately.

Some copied manuscripts.

Others debated quietly over maps spread across enormous tables.

A few sat cross-legged beneath shafts of sunlight, completely absorbed in books thicker than bricks.

Nobody hurried.

Nobody shouted.

The hall possessed its own rhythm.

Steady.

Peaceful.

Comfortable.

It reminded me...

Uncomfortably...

Of Lady Sayuri's sanctuary.

Just...

Bigger.

Much bigger.

Thalion noticed where my eyes kept drifting.

"You approve."

"I do."

He gestured around us.

"This hall predates every nation currently existing upon this continent."

I looked upward.

"...Seriously?"

"It has burned twice."

He answered matter of factly.

"Collapsed once during an earthquake."

He rested one hand against the living wall.

"And been rebuilt each time."

I frowned.

"...How much was lost?"

Silence settled over the nearby scholars.

Thalion answered quietly.

"Enough."

Something about that single word carried more weight than any number could.

I nodded.

"...I'm sorry."

He smiled gently.

"It taught us an important lesson."

"Oh?"

He pointed toward dozens of scribes working throughout the hall.

"Never keep only one copy."

I couldn't help smiling.

"...Redundancy."

His eyebrow rose.

"...Another interesting word."

"It means having backups."

"Ah."

He nodded approvingly.

"A wise philosophy."

As we continued walking...

A small group of apprentice scholars hurried toward Thalion.

They couldn't have been much older than sixteen.

Each carried stacks of books nearly as tall as their torsos.

They stopped so abruptly upon seeing me that one almost lost his balance.

The books wobbled.

I instinctively reached out.

Catching the top of the stack before it toppled.

"...Easy."

The young elf blinked.

"...Th-thank you."

"No problem."

He stared at me.

Not fearfully.

More...

Like I'd stepped out of one of the history books tucked beneath his arm.

"...You're really human."

"I've been told."

"...Can..."

He hesitated.

"...May I ask a question?"

Thalion chuckled.

"I believe you've joined quite a long queue."

The apprentices laughed nervously.

I shrugged.

"Go ahead."

The young scholar looked genuinely excited now.

"...Is it true humans can't sense mana naturally?"

I nodded.

"Most can't."

His eyes widened.

"...Then how did you learn magic?"

I smiled.

"...Practice."

He frowned.

"...Only practice?"

"And a lot of mistakes."

Several nearby scholars quietly nodded at that.

Apparently mistakes were universal.

Another apprentice raised her hand.

"...Is your world really without mana?"

"It is."

"...Then..."

She looked genuinely confused.

"...How did you survive?"

I laughed.

"Very stubbornly."

That earned another wave of chuckles.

"...No."

I continued.

"We replaced magic with science."

The apprentices exchanged puzzled glances.

"...Science?"

"A way of understanding how the universe works."

I picked up a nearby apple resting on a table.

Holding it up.

"If I let go..."

I released it.

The apple fell.

"...Why?"

One apprentice answered immediately.

"Gravity."

I blinked.

"...You have gravity?"

Several scholars looked equally confused.

"...Of course."

"...Right."

I scratched my cheek.

"Poor example."

The apprentices laughed.

"So..."

I picked the apple back up.

"We studied things like that. We asked questions. We experimented. We wrote everything down."

Thalion smiled quietly.

"...Knowledge built upon knowledge."

"Exactly."

He looked around the immense library.

"...Then perhaps..."

His eyes returned to mine.

"...Our worlds are not so different after all."

A sudden voice echoed from the upper balconies.

"Elder Thalion!"

Every conversation in the hall stopped.

A young librarian leaned dangerously far over the railing.

His eyes were fixed entirely on me.

"...Is..."

He shouted.

"...is that the human!?"

Thalion sighed.

"...Yes, Cedric."

The young elf disappeared.

A heartbeat later...

Dozens of hurried footsteps thundered through the upper levels.

I looked toward Aelion.

"...Should I be worried?"

He smiled.

"No."

"...Why do I feel like that means yes?"

"Because."

He answered honestly.

"...You're about to meet historians."

Before I could ask what was so concerning about historians...

The first books hit the table.

Then another.

Then six more.

Within moments...

Nearly twenty scholars had surrounded us.

Each carrying different manuscripts.

Different scrolls.

Different maps.

Every single pair of eyes fixed squarely on me.

One elderly historian adjusted his spectacles.

His hands trembled ever so slightly.

Not from fear.

Excitement.

"...Human."

He whispered.

"...Would you happen..."

He carefully opened an enormous leather-bound volume.

"...To have a few hours?"

I slowly looked around the circle of scholars.

Then toward Thalion.

Then back toward the books.

I let out a long sigh.

"...Lady Sayuri..."

I muttered under my breath.

"...You'd absolutely love this place."

Thalion's ears twitched.

"...Lady Sayuri?"

I froze.

"...Uh..."

His eyes narrowed. Not suspiciously, but with unmistakable interest.

"...That..."

He said slowly.

"...Is a very old name."

The hall became quiet once again.

Not because anyone felt threatened.

Because...

Every scholar present recognized the name.

Thalion's expression remained calm.

But the curiosity in his ancient eyes sharpened noticeably.

"...Lady Sayuri."

He repeated carefully.

"...That is not a name one hears spoken lightly."

I immediately realized my mistake.

"...Right."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...I probably should've kept my mouth shut."

Several scholars exchanged puzzled glances.

One quietly whispered,

"...He speaks as though he knows her."

Another frowned.

"...Impossible."

"...Lady Sayuri is still a child."

"...Perhaps another Sayuri?"

Thalion slowly folded his hands into the sleeves of his robes.

"There have been many Sayuris."

He acknowledged.

"But..."

His gaze remained fixed on me.

"...The manner in which you spoke suggests otherwise."

I sighed inwardly.

Great.

I'd walked directly into that one.

Again.

Apparently I had a talent for that.

"...You're very observant."

"I've had practice."

He answered simply.

That...

Was difficult to argue with.

For several long seconds...

Neither of us spoke.

Finally...

I chose my words carefully.

"...Where I come from, names sometimes survive for a very long time."

That wasn't technically a lie.

It just wasn't the entire truth.

Thalion studied me.

Searching my face.

Searching my eyes.

Looking for...

Something.

Whatever he found...

He simply nodded.

"...I see."

The answer surprised me.

"...That's it?"

A faint smile crossed his face.

"I have lived long enough to recognize when someone carries an answer they cannot yet give."

The words settled over the hall.

He wasn't pressing.

He wasn't accusing.

He was simply...

Waiting.

"I imagine..."

He continued gently.

"...You have your reasons."

"I do."

He inclined his head.

"Then I shall not ask."

Around us...

Several younger scholars looked mildly disappointed.

Apparently they had hoped for something considerably more dramatic.

Elder Aelion smiled knowingly.

"You've become more patient."

Thalion chuckled.

"I've had another century to practice."

Aelion laughed softly.

"I suppose that helps."

One of the historians finally cleared his throat.

"...Elder?"

Thalion looked toward him.

"I believe..."

The elderly scholar adjusted his spectacles.

"...The human is still standing."

I blinked.

"...Should I not be?"

A ripple of quiet laughter passed through the room.

The historian smiled warmly.

"Conversation is better enjoyed seated."

"...Fair point."

Thalion led us deeper into the Hall of Roots.

The interior became even more impressive the farther we walked.

Massive circular reading rooms had been carved into the living tree itself.

Natural sunlight poured through crystalline openings high above.

Not a single torch burned.

Instead...

The walls themselves emitted a faint silver glow.

I slowed.

"...That's not sunlight."

"No."

Thalion answered.

"The tree."

I looked around.

"The tree glows?"

"It always has."

One scholar added proudly,

"It grows brighter at night."

I stared.

"...That's..."

I shook my head slowly.

"...Actually incredible."

Eventually...

We entered a circular chamber unlike any I'd yet seen.

Its ceiling disappeared so high into the living tree that I couldn't make out the top.

Bookshelves climbed endlessly upward.

Dozens of spiral staircases wrapped around the walls.

Suspended bridges crossed the open air between different levels.

At the center stood an enormous round table carved from a single slab of white wood.

Its polished surface reflected the sunlight filtering through the branches overhead.

Waiting around it...

Sat perhaps fifteen elves.

Each older than the last.

Some wore simple robes.

Others carried staffs.

Several had books already open before them.

The moment we entered...

Every conversation stopped.

Every pair of eyes turned toward me.

I suddenly understood exactly how a bug pinned beneath glass probably felt.

Thalion walked calmly to the head of the table.

"My friends."

His voice carried effortlessly through the chamber.

"Our guests have arrived."

One elderly woman smiled warmly toward the Kitsune volunteers.

Another nodded respectfully toward Elder Aelion.

Then...

They all looked at me again.

The silence became almost comical.

Finally...

One old elf leaned toward another.

Not nearly quietly enough.

"...He's taller than I expected."

Another nodded thoughtfully.

"...Much."

A third adjusted his glasses.

"...The ears are disappointingly round."

I instinctively reached up and touched one.

"...They've been that way my whole life."

The chamber erupted into laughter.

Even Thalion covered his smile with one sleeve.

The elderly elf who had commented about my ears looked absolutely delighted.

"...Excellent."

He said.

"...He has a sense of humor."

Another scholar spoke.

"...And apparently exceptional hearing."

"I hunt."

I answered.

"Ah."

He nodded.

"That explains it."

One woman slowly closed the book before her.

Unlike the others...

She hadn't laughed.

Her silver eyes calmly studied every inch of me.

Not critically.

Professionally.

"...Interesting."

She murmured.

I blinked.

"...Should I be worried?"

"No."

She answered.

"I merely find myself comparing."

"...Comparing what?"

"The historical descriptions."

Several scholars immediately perked up.

One reached beneath the table.

Producing an ancient scroll tied with faded green ribbon.

He carefully unrolled it.

"...The last documented human diplomatic envoy..."

He read aloud.

"...Occurred approximately one thousand four hundred years ago."

My eyebrows rose.

"...Seriously?"

He nodded.

"The descriptions are..."

He adjusted his spectacles.

"...Rather lacking."

Another scholar leaned over.

"What do they say?"

The elderly historian squinted.

"'Average height.'"

He frowned.

"'Mostly hairless.'"

Another pause.

"'Frequently confused.'"

Silence.

I slowly folded my arms.

"...You know..."

I looked around the table.

"...That last one feels a little personal."

The chamber exploded with laughter once again.

Even the stern silver-eyed scholar couldn't quite suppress the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Thalion chuckled.

"...I do believe..."

He looked toward the old scroll.

"...Our records may require updating."

I grinned.

"...I'd appreciate that."

The old historian dipped his quill into ink.

Without missing a beat, he crossed out the final line.

Then wrote carefully beneath it...

"Still frequently confused."

The room dissolved into laughter for a third time.

I stared at him.

"...Really?"

He looked up with the most innocent expression imaginable.

"...Historical accuracy."

Even I couldn't argue with that.

I laughed, shaking my head.

"...I walked right into that one."

"You did."

Thalion agreed cheerfully.

"And I suspect..."

His ancient eyes twinkled with amusement.

"...This is the beginning of a very interesting friendship."

The laughter lingered for a while.

Not loud.

Not disruptive.

Warm.

Comfortable.

It was the kind of laughter that only came from people who had known one another for centuries.

Eventually, it settled back into quiet conversation.

The elderly historian carefully rolled up the ancient scroll before placing it back inside its leather case.

"I shall amend the record."

He said matter-of-factly.

I raised an eyebrow.

"...You're actually going to do it?"

He looked genuinely confused.

"Of course."

"...Even the confused part?"

He dipped his quill into ink.

"I believe history should remain honest."

Several scholars nodded in complete agreement.

"...Wonderful."

I muttered.

"My descendants are going to love reading that."

One younger scholar tilted his head.

"...Descendants?"

I froze for half a heartbeat.

"...Hypothetical descendants."

I corrected.

"I don't exactly have any."

"...Ah."

The scholar nodded.

"I see."

Barely.

That had almost gone very wrong.

Again.

Thalion slowly lowered himself into the large chair at the head of the circular table.

Unlike a throne...

It looked worn.

Comfortable.

Used.

The sort of chair someone actually sat in every day.

Not one reserved for ceremony.

He gestured toward the empty seats surrounding the table.

"Please. We do not stand on formality here."

The Kitsune volunteers exchanged uncertain looks before sitting.

I followed their example.

The chair creaked softly beneath my weight.

Solid.

Comfortable.

Whoever had built it knew exactly what they were doing.

Several attendants entered almost immediately.

Not servants.

Scholars.

Each carried trays of steaming tea alongside small plates of fruit, bread, and honey.

One quietly placed a cup before me.

I smiled.

"Thank you."

She blinked.

Apparently surprised I'd thanked her.

Then smiled back.

"You are welcome."

After everyone had been served...

The chamber settled into another comfortable silence.

Nobody rushed.

Nobody immediately began questioning me.

Instead...

Everyone simply drank their tea.

I glanced toward Elder Aelion.

"...Is this normal?"

He smiled over the rim of his cup.

"It is."

"...Nobody's going to immediately interrogate me?"

A few amused smiles appeared around the table.

Thalion chuckled.

"Hospitality comes first. Questions later."

I nodded approvingly.

"...I like your people."

One elderly woman laughed.

"Most visitors do."

Nearly five minutes passed before anyone spoke again.

Finally...

Thalion carefully set his cup down.

"...Now."

He folded his hands together.

"I believe introductions are overdue."

He gestured toward the woman seated immediately to his right.

She inclined her head.

"I am Elder Lysandra."

"We've met."

I smiled.

"The botanist."

She nodded once.

"And still fascinated by you."

"...Comforting."

That earned another quiet laugh.

The elderly historian spoke next.

"I am Elder Corwin."

He adjusted his spectacles.

"Keeper of Histories."

He smiled faintly.

"And apparently responsible for documenting your confusion."

I sighed dramatically.

"...I'm never living that down, am I?"

"No."

He answered immediately.

"I suspected as much."

Around the table...

Each elder introduced themselves.

Master of Astronomy.

Keeper of Rivers.

Archivist of Languages.

Master Smith.

Scholar of Living Architecture.

Steward of Seeds.

Guardian of Songs.

Each title felt...

Earned.

None sounded boastful.

Simply descriptive.

It struck me after the seventh introduction.

"...You don't really use nobility."

Several elders looked toward me.

Thalion answered.

"We do."

He said.

"But titles should describe responsibility."

Not privilege."

I blinked.

"...I actually like that."

"It reminds leaders..."

Lysandra added quietly.

"...Why they exist."

Eventually...

Every eye returned to me.

Thalion smiled.

"And now..."

He leaned back slightly.

"Tell us about yourself."

I laughed.

"...That is an incredibly broad question."

"It is."

"I could be here all week."

"We have time."

Several scholars nodded enthusiastically.

I believed them.

"...Alright."

I took a slow breath.

"My name's Alex. I'm from another world. grew up in a small farming town. I like reading. Exploring. Hunting. Building things. I've always been curious."

I shrugged.

"I ask a lot of questions."

Corwin quietly scribbled something.

I glanced sideways.

"...You're already taking notes?"

He didn't even look up.

"Of course."

"...What are you writing?"

He read aloud without embarrassment.

"'Subject appears chronically curious.'"

I looked toward Thalion.

"...Can I object?"

"No."

He smiled pleasantly.

"...Wonderful."

I continued anyway.

"I learned a little woodworking growing up. Some blacksmithing. A fair bit about machines. I've spent more time taking things apart than I probably should've."

One younger scholar smiled knowingly.

"So have I."

Lysandra looked at him.

"We noticed."

The room chuckled.

"I also..."

I hesitated.

"...Enjoy writing."

That caught several scholars' attention.

"Oh?"

Corwin leaned forward.

"What do you write?"

"Stories. Poems. Sometimes journals."

Thalion's smile widened.

"A storyteller."

"...Sort of."

He shook his head gently.

"Do not diminish your craft. Stories preserve civilizations."

I found myself smiling.

Lady Sayuri would've liked that answer.

One elderly scholar resting both elbows on the table finally spoke.

"What fascinates you most?"

I didn't answer immediately.

There were...

So many possibilities.

Finally...

I looked around the chamber.

"...People."

Silence.

The scholar tilted his head.

"...People?"

I nodded.

"I like learning how they think. What they believe. Why they do things."

I gestured around the room.

"Every person knows something I don't. If I'm willing to listen and learn, I leave knowing more than when I arrived."

Nobody interrupted.

"I don't really care where someone comes from. I care what they can teach me."

The chamber remained quiet.

Thalion slowly smiled.

"...I begin to understand."

"Understand what?"

He rested one hand upon the table.

"Why the forest welcomed you."

The room grew noticeably still.

I frowned.

"...Welcomed me?"

"It has."

Aelion answered quietly.

"You noticed it yourself. The feeling."

I nodded slowly.

"...Being watched."

"Yes."

Lysandra folded her hands.

"The Elder Forest does not reject curiosity. It rejects arrogance."

Another elder nodded.

"It has little patience for those who believe they already possess every answer."

Corwin smiled over his spectacles.

"...You, on the other hand, appear almost incapable of believing you know enough."

I laughed.

"...That's because I don't."

Thalion's ancient eyes remained fixed on mine.

"And that..."

He said softly.

"...May be the wisest thing you've said since arriving."

The room fell silent once more.

Not because the conversation had ended.

Because everyone around the table seemed to be arriving at the same conclusion.

They had expected a human inventor.

A warrior.

Perhaps even an oddity from another land.

Instead...

They had found someone whose greatest strength wasn't his weapons...

Or his inventions...

But an endless willingness to learn.

And among a people who had spent millennia pursuing knowledge...

That was something they understood immediately.

Silence lingered around the great circular table.

Not uncomfortable.

Not uncertain.

Simply...

Thoughtful.

Several of the elders regarded me with quiet interest.

Others had already begun writing notes onto fresh parchment.

Apparently, everything I said was worth recording.

That was...

A little intimidating.

I shifted slightly in my chair.

"...Am I really that interesting?"

A few smiles appeared around the table.

Corwin looked up from his notes.

"No."

I blinked.

"...No?"

"You are refreshingly ordinary."

That answer surprised me enough that I laughed.

"...I don't think I've ever been called that before."

"It is not an insult."

The old historian smiled warmly.

"It is, in fact, exceedingly rare."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...How so?"

Thalion answered instead.

"Many who stand before this council attempt to become memorable. They exaggerate. They boast. They inflate their accomplishments."

He folded his hands.

"You..."

A faint smile crossed his face.

"...Appear determined to do the opposite."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I just don't like taking credit for things I didn't do."

Lysandra tilted her head.

"...You realize that modesty and accuracy are not always the same thing?"

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You did not invent every idea."

She acknowledged.

"But..."

She gestured gently toward me.

"...You are the one who remembered them. The one who understood them. The one willing to teach them."

She smiled kindly.

"Do not diminish your own part merely because others also played theirs."

I opened my mouth.

Then quietly closed it again.

That...

Sounded strangely familiar.

Almost word for word.

Lady Sayuri had said nearly the same thing.

Corwin noticed my expression.

"Someone else has told you this."

It wasn't a question.

I sighed.

"...Yeah."

"And?"

"I didn't really listen."

Several elders chuckled knowingly.

Thalion nodded.

"Few people do."

The old historian rested his quill against the parchment.

"Tell me, Alex. What frightened you most?"

I blinked.

"...That's a bit of a jump."

"Life often is."

He answered calmly.

I thought about it.

There had been...

Quite a few things.

Being dropped into another world.

Nearly dying.

The dragon.

The corruption.

The trials.

Meeting ancient civilizations.

Yet...

None of those were what came to mind first.

"I think..."

I spoke slowly.

"...The idea of becoming the smartest person in the room."

Several eyebrows rose.

Corwin looked genuinely intrigued.

"...Explain."

I looked around the immense library.

"If I'm the smartest person somewhere..."

I shrugged.

"...I'm probably in the wrong place."

Silence.

"I like being around people who know more than I do."

I continued.

"They make me think. They point out things I miss. They challenge my assumptions."

I smiled faintly.

"They make me better."

Thalion's eyes softened.

"...An admirable philosophy."

I chuckled.

"It also means I ask a lot of stupid questions."

"There are no stupid questions."

One elder immediately replied.

"There are."

Another interrupted.

"I have asked several."

That earned another round of laughter.

Lysandra reached for a thick botanical journal resting beside her.

"Curiosity."

She murmured.

"It is a curious thing."

She looked toward me.

"Children possess it naturally. They ask 'why? How? What happens if?'"

She smiled sadly.

"Most lose it."

I nodded.

"Yeah. They're told to stop asking."

Her silver eyes met mine.

"You never stopped."

I smiled.

"I got in trouble for it."

Several scholars laughed.

"I imagine."

Thalion said.

One of the younger archivists finally leaned forward.

"If I may..."

Thalion nodded.

The young elf looked almost embarrassed.

"...You don't seem disappointed."

I frowned.

"...About what?"

"You've arrived in a world unlike your own."

He gestured around the library.

"You've met entirely different peoples. No magic. Different history. You've survived dangers most of us only read about."

He hesitated.

"...Yet...You spend your time asking questions."

I smiled.

"What else would I do?"

He blinked.

"I don't understand."

I leaned back.

"If I spent all my time wishing I was home, I'd miss where I am."

Silence.

"I can't change what's already happened."

I continued quietly.

"So I might as well learn everything I can while I'm here."

The young archivist stared at me.

"...I..."

He smiled sheepishly.

"...I hadn't thought about it that way."

Thalion rested his elbows lightly upon the table.

"You adapt quickly."

"I try."

"No."

He shook his head.

"You adapt naturally."

That...

Was a distinction.

I wasn't entirely sure I understood it.

He seemed to notice.

"When most people encounter something unfamiliar..."

He picked up a small carved wooden puzzle from the table.

"...They compare it to what they already know."

He rotated it in his hands.

"They ask,'How does this fit into my understanding?'"

He looked at me.

"You ask,'How should my understanding change?'"

The room fell quiet again.

I stared at him.

"I...Never thought about it."

"I know."

He smiled.

"You simply do it."

Elder Aelion chuckled softly.

"I told you."

Thalion glanced toward him.

"You did."

"I said he would be interesting."

"You understated the matter considerably."

The two ancient elves shared an amused look.

One that suggested this wasn't the first time Aelion had been quietly pleased with himself.

Corwin closed his notebook.

The soft thump echoed through the chamber.

"I have reached a conclusion."

Every scholar looked toward him.

Including me.

"...Should I be worried?"

"No."

He smiled.

"I simply believe our records have been mistaken."

I tilted my head.

"...About humans?"

He nodded.

"For centuries..."

He gestured toward countless shelves surrounding us.

"We have described humanity as ambitious. Competitive. Short lived. Resourceful."

He looked directly at me.

"None of those descriptions are incorrect."

A pause.

"But... They are incomplete."

I frowned.

"...Incomplete?"

He smiled warmly.

"I believe..."

He tapped the cover of his journal.

"...The defining characteristic of humanity..."

His eyes twinkled with quiet amusement.

"...Is not that you seek answers."

He looked around the table.

"It is that..."

He pointed gently toward me.

"...You refuse to stop asking questions."

Silence.

Not because no one had anything to say.

Because...

Every scholar around the table...

Slowly nodded.

Even Thalion.

Even Aelion.

Even Lysandra.

I scratched my cheek awkwardly.

"...Huh."

Corwin smiled.

"What?"

"I never really thought of curiosity as..."

I searched for the right word.

"...A racial trait."

Thalion laughed.

"It may not be."

He stood, slowly rising from his chair.

"But..."

He looked out over the endless shelves of the Hall of Roots.

"...If your people truly built another world through questions..."

He looked back at me.

"...Then perhaps..."

A warm smile spread across his ancient face.

"...We have been waiting a very long time to meet one of them."

Thalion's words lingered in the air.

"Perhaps... we have been waiting a very long time to meet one of them."

I couldn't help smiling.

"...Don't get your hopes up."

Several eyebrows rose around the table.

"We're just people."

I shrugged.

"We've done some incredible things, and some incredibly stupid things."

That earned a few knowing smiles.

Corwin uncapped his ink bottle once more.

"I suspect..."

He said.

"...Both shall prove equally educational."

A ripple of laughter spread around the chamber.

"...Fair enough."

I leaned back slightly in my chair.

"So, you wanted to know about my world."

Several quills immediately lowered onto parchment.

"...Where do I even begin?"

Lysandra spoke first.

"You mentioned before..."

"...That your world possessed no mana."

"It doesn't."

"And yet..."

She folded her hands together.

"...You built civilizations."

"We did."

"...How?"

I smiled.

"One problem at a time."

I reached for the untouched apple still sitting in the center of the table.

Holding it up.

"My world couldn't fly."

I tossed it gently into the air before catching it again.

"For thousands of years, we looked at birds, and wondered, 'How?'"

I smiled faintly.

"So, we built wings."

Several scholars nodded.

"Gliders?"

One guessed.

"At first."

I nodded.

"They worked, poorly."

That earned a chuckle.

"So we kept trying. We learned. We failed. We crashed. We broke bones. We buried pioneers."

The laughter disappeared.

"But..."

I smiled again.

"We never stopped trying."

I set the apple back down.

"Eventually, we created engines."

I looked around the table.

"Machines capable of producing enough power to lift themselves into the sky."

Several scholars blinked.

"...Lift..."

Corwin repeated.

"...Themselves?"

I nodded.

"They fly."

Silence.

"They carry people."

Longer silence.

"They carry cargo."

Even longer silence.

"They cross oceans."

One quill snapped.

The young scholar holding it looked down in disbelief.

Nobody laughed.

Nobody even looked at him.

Every eye remained fixed on me.

"...Impossible."

Someone whispered.

I smiled.

"People said that. Until it wasn't."

Thalion rested one elbow upon the table.

"How many?"

"How many what?"

"Flying machines."

I thought for a moment.

"...Millions."

Silence.

"...Millions?"

Lysandra echoed.

I nodded.

"My world has airports."

Several confused expressions appeared.

"...Air..."

Corwin repeated.

"...Ports?"

I laughed.

"Basically enormous places where flying machines arrive and depart. They're everywhere."

The historian slowly wrote something down.

I couldn't quite read it.

But I was fairly certain the word absurd appeared somewhere.

Another elder leaned forward.

"...How high?"

"Hm?"

"These machines. How high do they fly?"

I looked upward instinctively.

"Usually around..."

I converted the measurement in my head.

"...six point two or six point eight miles high."

Absolute silence.

One elderly astronomer slowly removed his spectacles.

Cleaned them.

Put them back on.

"...Perhaps..."

He muttered.

"...My hearing has deteriorated."

"It hasn't."

Thalion answered quietly.

I continued.

"Some even leave the atmosphere."

That...

Finally broke them.

"...Leave..."

Someone whispered.

"...The atmosphere?"

I nodded.

"We call it space."

The astronomer slowly stood.

Walking toward one of the enormous windows overlooking the forest.

He stared upward.

Past the branches.

Toward the blue sky.

"...Beyond..."

He whispered.

"...The sky..."

"Yep."

I answered.

Corwin's quill had completely stopped moving.

"...Explain."

I smiled.

"Gravity keeps us on the ground."

Several scholars nodded.

"We learned how to overcome it. We built rockets."

One apprentice frowned.

"...What is a rocket?"

"A controlled explosion."

Silence.

"...That somehow flies."

More silence.

"...Up."

One younger scholar quietly whispered,

"I dislike this already."

The room chuckled.

"We eventually reached our moon."

I said.

That...

Silenced even the laughter.

"...Reached..."

Lysandra repeated.

"...The moon."

I nodded.

"We landed people there."

Nobody moved.

Nobody spoke.

The room had become so quiet I could hear the leaves rustling outside.

Finally...

The astronomer turned around.

"...Your people..."

His voice sounded almost reverent.

"...Walked upon the moon."

"We did."

I smiled softly.

"Took pictures. Collected rocks. Then..."

I shrugged.

"...Came home."

Several scholars simply stared.

One apprentice looked as though his entire understanding of reality had just collapsed.

"...Why?"

He asked.

The question surprised me.

"...Because it was there."

I answered honestly.

Thalion laughed.

Not loudly.

Just warmly.

"...That..."

He smiled.

"...May be the most human answer I have ever heard."

Corwin had resumed writing so quickly that his quill was practically racing across the page.

"...Continue."

He said without looking up.

I hesitated.

"...The next one's..."

I scratched my cheek.

"...Less cheerful."

The room quieted.

"We also learned how to split the atom."

Silence.

Several scholars looked puzzled.

"...Atom?"

"The smallest building blocks of matter."

I explained.

"We discovered that, if handled correctly..."

I paused.

"...An unbelievable amount of energy exists inside them."

Lysandra's expression became thoughtful.

"...Energy."

I nodded.

"Enough to power cities."

Several approving murmurs spread through the chamber.

"...Or..."

I continued quietly.

"...Destroy one."

The murmurs stopped.

I looked around the table.

"My world created a weapon. A single weapon. Capable of erasing an entire city."

Nobody breathed.

"It burns. It blinds. It creates a shockwave that flattens nearly everything.bPeople miles away still die."

Silence.

"Even years later."

The chamber had become utterly still.

"...We call them nuclear weapons."

No one spoke.

Not immediately.

Finally...

Thalion asked the question.

"...Why?"

I met his gaze.

"Because we were afraid."

Silence.

"We were at war.bWe believed that if we didn't build it first, someone else would."

Corwin slowly lowered his quill.

"...Did it end the war?"

I nodded once.

"It did."

Another long silence followed.

"...At what cost?"

Lysandra asked softly.

I looked down at my hands.

"...Too high."

No one wrote.

No one interrupted.

Finally...

I looked back up.

"My world..."

I said quietly.

"...Contains incredible beauty."

I smiled faintly.

"We've cured diseases. Connected continents. Mapped nearly every ocean Walked on another world."

Then my smile faded.

"...We've also committed atrocities. Wars. Genocide. Slavery. We've poisoned rivers. Destroyed forests. And invented ways to kill each other that would've horrified our ancestors."

The room remained silent.

Not judgmental.

Simply...

Listening.

Thalion slowly folded his hands.

"...You describe your world..."

He said quietly.

"...Not with pride."

I nodded.

"...No."

"Nor shame."

"...No."

He smiled.

"...You describe it..."

His ancient eyes met mine.

"...With honesty."

I returned the smile.

"I think..."

I said softly.

"...A civilization should be remembered for all of its history. The triumphs. The mistakes. The victories. The regrets. Because if we only remember the good..."

I looked around the table.

"...We're doomed to repeat the bad."

No one spoke for a long time.

Finally...

Corwin closed his journal.

The sound echoed gently through the Hall of Roots.

"...Then perhaps..."

He said.

"...Your world and ours are more alike than either of us expected."

Around the table...

Every elder quietly nodded in agreement.

Silence lingered around the circular table.

Not because anyone had run out of questions.

If anything...

Quite the opposite.

I had the distinct feeling that I'd just given every scholar in the Hall of Roots enough material to keep them arguing for the next century.

Finally...

Thalion exhaled softly.

"...Your people are remarkable."

I gave a small shrug.

"So I've been told."

His silver eyes remained fixed on me.

"And deeply flawed."

I smiled faintly.

"...Yeah. We are."

He nodded once.

"Good."

That answer surprised me.

"...Good?"

Lysandra noticed my expression and smiled.

"A civilization that believes itself flawless..."

She folded her hands together.

"...Has already stopped growing."

Corwin nodded in agreement.

"The moment one believes there is nothing left to learn, learning ends."

I couldn't argue with that.

"...Fair enough."

The astronomer who had remained mostly silent finally spoke.

"I confess..."

He looked almost embarrassed.

"...I still struggle to imagine walking upon the moon."

I laughed.

"Honestly? So do I."

That earned a few puzzled looks.

"I wasn't alive when it happened."

I admitted.

"I've only ever seen recording The people who walked there..."

I smiled.

"They became legends."

Thalion leaned back in his chair.

"...Even among your own people."

"Oh, absolutely. They changed history."

The conversation slowly drifted into comfortable silence once more.

Then...

Thalion's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair.

"...We should speak of tomorrow."

The atmosphere in the chamber shifted almost immediately.

The warmth remained.

But now...

It carried purpose.

Elder Aelion inclined his head.

"I was hoping you would."

I looked between the two ancient elves.

"...The trials?"

Thalion nodded.

"The trials."

Corwin quietly closed his journal.

"The volunteers should understand what awaits them."

One of the younger scholars frowned.

"...Are we permitted to discuss the trials?"

Thalion smiled.

"We are permitted to discuss them."

He paused.

"We are not permitted to spoil them."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...There's a difference?"

"A considerable one."

Thalion stood from his chair.

Slowly making his way toward an enormous map carved into the polished wooden floor.

At first glance...

It looked like nothing more than an artistic depiction of the surrounding forests.

Until I noticed...

The trees.

Some shimmered with silver inlay.

Others with emerald.

Several sections were intentionally left blank.

"The Elder Forest."

He said quietly.

"It is older than our kingdom."

His hand rested lightly upon one section of the map.

"Our city exists because the forest permits it."

That wording caught my attention.

"...Permits it?"

He nodded.

"Yes. We do not rule these woods. We live within them."

One apprentice quietly asked,

"...Is the forest truly alive?"

Thalion smiled.

"You ask the wrong question."

That sounded familiar.

He continued.

"Whether it lives..."

He looked down at the map.

"...Or whether it merely behaves as though it does..."

He shrugged slightly.

"The distinction matters very little."

Elder Aelion stepped beside him.

"The trials themselves..."

He looked toward the five of us.

"...Have changed over the centuries."

I frowned.

"...Changed?"

"They adapt."

Thalion answered.

"To those who enter."

Silence.

"...Wait."

I blinked.

"The trials are different for everyone?"

"Yes."

That...

Wasn't comforting.

Daisuke folded his arms.

"So, we're not all taking the same test."

"No."

Thalion replied.

"You are taking the same journey."

He smiled faintly.

"But not the same lessons."

Emi frowned thoughtfully.

"...How does that work?"

"The forest observes."

Aelion answered.

"It learns. It understands."

I scratched my cheek.

"...I'm getting the feeling you really like mysterious answers."

Several elders laughed quietly.

"We've had centuries to perfect them."

Corwin admitted.

Lysandra approached the map.

Her finger traced several winding paths.

"No two candidates ever remember traveling exactly the same route."

I stared.

"...Seriously?"

She nodded.

"Some walk beside rivers. Others climb mountains. Some never leave the trees. Others find ancient ruins."

She smiled gently.

"Occasionally, someone reaches a place no one has seen before."

The room fell quiet again.

I looked down at the map.

"...What determines where we go?"

Thalion looked at me.

"We do not know."

"...You've never figured it out?"

He chuckled.

"We stopped pretending we understood everything a very long time ago."

Corwin leaned forward.

"There are, however..."

He raised one finger.

"...Certain constants."

Every volunteer straightened slightly.

"The first."

He looked at each of us in turn.

"The forest does not care how strong you are."

Daisuke frowned.

"...It doesn't?"

"No. The greatest swordsman may fail. The weakest scholar may succeed."

A second finger.

"It cannot be conquered. If you attempt to force your way through, you will become lost."

A third finger.

"It rewards observation."

I couldn't help smiling.

"...That one I can do."

Corwin returned the smile.

"I suspected as much."

Then...

Thalion raised a fourth finger.

"And finally..."

His expression grew noticeably more serious.

"It reveals."

Silence.

"...Reveals what?"

Sora asked quietly.

Thalion looked at each of us.

"...Yourself."

Nobody spoke.

He continued.

"The Elder Forest possesses no interest in the person you pretend to be. It cares little for reputation. Or titles. Or status."

His ancient eyes settled on me.

"It will strip away every certainty. Every assumption. Every excuse."

Until...

He rested a hand against the living wood wall beside him.

"...Only the truth remains."

A chill ran down my spine.

"...That sounds..."

I searched for the right word.

"...Uncomfortable."

"It often is."

Lysandra admitted.

Emi looked nervous now.

"...Has anyone ever refused?"

Thalion nodded.

"Many. They simply returned home."

"...Alive?"

Aelion smiled.

"Of course. There is no shame in deciding you are not ready."

Daisuke spoke next.

"...And if we complete the trials?"

Silence settled over the chamber.

For the first time...

None of the elders answered immediately.

Instead...

They exchanged quiet glances.

Finally...

Thalion spoke.

"If the forest accepts you..."

He smiled faintly.

"...Then you will be invited to learn."

"...Learn what?"

I asked.

He looked directly at me.

"...Elven magic."

Then his smile became just a little more mischievous.

"...Though I suspect..."

He glanced toward me, then toward Elder Aelion.

"...For one among you..."

He paused deliberately.

"...The forest may have something else in mind."

Every eye around the table...

Slowly turned toward me.

I sighed.

"...Why do I suddenly feel like everybody's looking at me again?"

Aelion chuckled.

"Because they are."

"...Great."

Corwin dipped his quill into fresh ink.

"Subject continues to attract unusual circumstances." He murmured, without looking up.

I pointed at him.

"...You are absolutely enjoying writing these."

He smiled innocently.

"I am a historian."

He replied.

"This is proving to be an exceptionally productive week."

The chamber filled with quiet laughter once again.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a resigned sigh.

"...You know..."

I looked around the table.

"I don't think I've ever met this many people who enjoy asking questions."

Several scholars looked genuinely confused.

"...Is that unusual?"

I blinked.

"...You know..."

I looked around the Hall of Roots.

"...Fair point."

Thalion's smile gradually faded back into one of quiet professionalism.

"The trials begin at sunrise."

His words immediately settled the room.

The humor remained.

But now...

There was purpose behind every face.

"The five volunteers will depart together."

He looked toward each of us in turn.

"You will travel under the guidance of our wardens until the forest's edge."

He paused.

"Beyond that, you walk alone."

Daisuke frowned.

"So we separate?"

"Yes."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

The warrior folded his arms.

"...I don't particularly like that."

"I wouldn't expect you to."

Thalion answered calmly.

Sora raised his hand slightly.

"...What if someone becomes injured?"

"The forest watches."

Aelion replied.

"But it does not coddle. If you can continue, you continue. If you cannot, you return."

"And if someone refuses to return?"

Silence.

Aelion's expression became thoughtful.

"They have."

"...Then what?"

"They eventually discovered..."

He smiled faintly.

"...That the Elder Forest possesses remarkable patience."

I frowned.

"...Meaning?"

"It is surprisingly difficult..."

Corwin said.

"...To out stubborn an ancient forest."

Several elders chuckled knowingly.

Apparently someone had attempted exactly that before.

Emi looked down at the map.

"...Has anyone died?"

The room became noticeably quieter.

Not uncomfortable.

Simply...

Honest.

Thalion answered.

"Yes."

Nobody tried to soften it.

Nobody looked away.

"Though not in many generations."

He continued.

"Our trials once demanded far more than wisdom."

Lysandra sighed quietly.

"We were younger then."

She looked toward us.

"As a civilization. There was a time we believed suffering produced strength."

She shook her head.

"We eventually learned, understanding produces far more."

I found myself smiling.

"...I like that lesson better."

"So do we."

One of the younger scholars sitting along the wall finally spoke.

"Elder."

Thalion looked toward him.

"May I ask something?"

"You may."

The young elf hesitated.

"...Why a human?"

The question echoed softly through the chamber.

No accusation.

No hostility.

Just...

Curiosity.

"I understand the Kitsune."

He continued.

"Their magic shares ancient roots with ours. But humans..."

He looked toward me.

"...Have never before been invited."

I noticed several other scholars quietly nodding.

Apparently...

They'd been wondering the same thing.

Thalion remained silent for nearly half a minute.

Finally...

He looked toward Elder Aelion.

"I believe, this answer belongs to you."

Every eye shifted toward the elder.

Aelion smiled softly.

"It was not my decision."

The room grew still.

"I merely listened."

He looked toward me.

"The invitation came from the Elder Forest itself."

Several scholars exchanged startled glances.

"...Impossible."

One whispered.

"No."

Thalion answered.

"...Merely unprecedented."

Aelion folded his hands behind his back.

"The invitation arrived three nights before our delegation departed."

He looked toward the volunteers.

"I believed there had been some mistake. I searched our records. Our prophecies. Our histories. I found nothing."

He smiled faintly.

"So...I asked the forest again."

"What did it say?"

Emi asked quietly.

The elder's smile widened.

"...Nothing."

Silence.

"...Nothing?"

Aelion nodded.

"It had already answered."

Several scholars looked thoughtful.

Others looked thoroughly confused.

I scratched my cheek.

"...I'm beginning to think ancient magical forests have a habit of being cryptic."

That earned a few amused smiles.

"They do."

Thalion admitted.

The elderly astronomer, who had spent most of the meeting quietly observing, finally leaned forward.

"There is..."

He said slowly.

"...One question I find myself unable to dismiss."

Everyone looked toward him.

He turned to me.

"You spoke of your world."

I nodded.

"You spoke of its achievements."

"I did."

"You spoke of its mistakes."

I nodded again.

His silver eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"But you have told us almost nothing..."

He rested one hand upon the table.

"...About yourself."

I blinked.

"I...Huh."

He smiled gently.

"You consistently redirect praise toward your people. Toward your teachers. Toward your civilization. But never toward yourself."

"I noticed that as well." Corwin quietly murmured.

"So did I."

Lysandra added.

Even Thalion gave a slow nod.

I suddenly felt as though I'd wandered into another conversation with Lady Sayuri.

"...It's really that obvious?"

"Exceptionally."

Thalion answered.

The ancient elf leaned forward slightly.

"So tell me, Alex."

His voice remained warm.

"What have you accomplished?"

I opened my mouth.

Then paused.

My first instinct was to list things other people had helped with.

The elevator.

The plumbing.

The lights.

The farming tools.

But...

That wasn't what he'd asked.

The silence stretched.

Finally...

I smiled awkwardly.

"...I honestly don't know how to answer that."

Nobody interrupted.

"I've survived."

I said quietly.

"I've learned. I've made mistakes. I've helped where I could."

I shrugged.

"I don't really think about accomplishments."

Thalion watched me for a long moment.

Then...

A slow smile spread across his face.

"I see."

"...See what?"

He looked toward the others.

"I believe..."

He said thoughtfully.

"...Lady Sayuri would enjoy meeting him."

The room fell silent.

Corwin frowned.

"...Akane's daughter?"

"The child?"

Thalion nodded once.

"Yes."

Lysandra looked surprised.

"Why?"

Thalion's smile lingered.

"Because..."

He looked back at me.

"I suspect, the two of them would ask one another questions until neither realized several days had passed."

The image alone made several elders laugh.

Even Aelion smiled.

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...You know, I honestly wouldn't be surprised."

That earned another ripple of laughter around the table.

Not because I'd made a joke.

Because everyone present could apparently picture it.

Corwin adjusted his spectacles.

"...Lady Sayuri would likely begin asking questions before introducing herself."

Lysandra smiled fondly.

"She already does."

Aelion nodded.

"She has a habit of forgetting conversations generally begin with greetings."

Thalion chuckled.

"...Akane claims she inherited that from me."

"You did."

Lysandra replied immediately.

"I refuse to accept responsibility."

"No."

Corwin said while writing something down.

"You merely refuse to remember it."

That earned another round of laughter.

Even Thalion sighed dramatically.

"...History truly is written by the historians."

Corwin looked pleased.

"As it should be."

The mood remained light for several more moments.

Eventually...

Thalion's smile softened.

"There is one matter we have yet to discuss."

The room settled almost immediately.

"The volunteers."

His eyes moved from Daisuke...

To Emi...

To Sora...

To Master Haruna...

Then finally...

To me.

"When dawn arrives..."

He said quietly.

"You will each cease to be representatives."

Nobody interrupted.

"You will no longer stand as Kitsune. Or humans. Or scholars. Or warriors."

His gaze lingered on each of us.

"You will simply be...Yourselves."

Daisuke folded his arms.

"...That sounds simple."

"It is not."

Thalion answered.

"The Elder Forest has an unfortunate habit..."

He smiled faintly.

"...Of stripping away the masks people wear."

Emi tilted her head.

"...Masks?"

"The roles."

Lysandra explained.

"The expectations. The identities others place upon you."

She looked thoughtfully toward the five of us.

"For a brief time, you become only what remains."

I frowned.

"...And if someone doesn't know who that is?"

Silence.

Thalion looked at me.

"Then..."

He said softly.

"...The forest will help them find out."

That answer wasn't particularly comforting.

Apparently I wasn't alone in thinking that.

Sora swallowed quietly.

"...Has that happened before?"

"Many times."

Aelion replied.

Corwin closed another journal.

"I once documented a prince."

He began.

"Who entered believing he would become the greatest king of his age."

"What happened?"

Daisuke asked.

"He discovered..."

Corwin smiled warmly.

"...He disliked ruling."

Several eyebrows rose.

"He abdicated the throne three years later. He became a schoolteacher."

I blinked.

"...Seriously?"

Corwin nodded.

"He remained happier than any king before or since."

Lysandra spoke next.

"I remember a huntress. She entered seeking greater strength."

"What did she find?"

Emi asked.

"She discovered..."

Lysandra smiled faintly.

"...She truly wished to paint."

I couldn't help smiling.

"...You're kidding."

"No."

"Her artwork still hangs within the eastern galleries."

Another elder spoke.

"I knew a scholar. He desperately wanted to become famous."

"What happened?"

"He realized..."

The elder chuckled.

"...He preferred quiet."

Several of the scholars around the table nodded knowingly.

Apparently...

They understood that feeling.

I looked around the room.

"...So...The forest doesn't really give people what they want."

"No."

Thalion answered.

"It gives them..."

He searched briefly for the proper words.

"...Perspective."

Silence returned.

I found myself looking down at the map carved into the floor.

The winding trails.

The rivers.

The forests.

None of it looked particularly threatening.

Yet...

Everything I'd heard made me suspect appearances were deceiving.

Thalion slowly walked around the circular table.

Stopping behind each volunteer for only a moment.

When he stood behind Daisuke...

He rested a hand lightly upon the warrior's shoulder.

"You possess courage."

Daisuke smiled proudly.

"But..."

Thalion continued.

"...Do not confuse courage with stubbornness."

Daisuke's smile became sheepish.

"...Working on that."

He moved to Emi.

"You possess knowledge."

She bowed her head slightly.

"But, knowledge without humility becomes arrogance."

"I understand."

She answered quietly.

"I believe you do."

Then Sora.

"You possess compassion."

The healer smiled.

"But, do not forget to extend it toward yourself."

Sora's expression faltered.

Only slightly.

"...Yes, Elder."

Master Haruna received only a single sentence.

"You already know why you are here."

The older Kitsune nodded once.

"I do."

Finally...

Thalion stopped behind me.

He remained there for several long moments.

Long enough that I became acutely aware everyone else was watching.

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

"...You remind me..."

He said quietly.

"...Of someone I once knew."

I blinked.

"...Really?"

"Yes."

"...Were they human?"

"No."

He smiled.

"They were considerably shorter."

A few chuckles spread around the table.

"...Good to know."

His expression gradually became thoughtful again.

"They possessed the same curiosity. The same willingness to listen. The same habit..."

He paused.

"...Of carrying burdens that did not belong to them."

My smile faded.

I didn't answer.

Neither did anyone else.

Thalion slowly walked around until he stood in front of me.

Looking directly into my eyes.

"There is something I wish you to remember."

His voice remained calm.

"If tomorrow..."

He gestured toward the great forest beyond the windows.

"...The forest shows you something you do not wish to see..."

He paused.

"...Do not look away."

The words settled heavily over the room.

I held his gaze.

"...Why?"

"Because..."

His ancient eyes seemed older than ever.

"...Truth does not cease to exist simply because it is uncomfortable."

Silence.

Then...

Very gently...

His expression softened once more.

"But neither..."

A faint smile returned.

"...Does hope."

He stepped back.

"The trials begin with the rising sun."

He looked around the chamber.

"I recommend all of you get some rest."

Corwin immediately sighed.

"...A pity."

Lysandra looked amused.

"What?"

"I had another forty three questions."

I laughed.

"...Only forty three?"

He looked almost offended.

"...For tonight."

That earned one last round of laughter before the elders slowly rose from the table, the meeting coming to a close as the fading light of evening filtered through the towering branches of the Hall of Roots.
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A/N: And done. kuwebby2, what do you think?