My Point of View

The forest was... quiet.

Not silent.

Never silent.

The Elder Forest breathed with a life all its own.

A cool breeze drifted lazily between the towering trees, setting countless emerald leaves dancing overhead. Shafts of golden morning sunlight pierced the thick canopy, spilling across the moss-covered earth in scattered pools of warm light. Somewhere high above, unseen birds sang to one another, while insects buzzed lazily among wildflowers that lined the narrow trail.

Every now and then...

A leaf would drift free.

Spinning gently through the air before disappearing into the undergrowth.

It should have felt peaceful.

Instead...

It felt as though the forest was watching.

Not in a threatening way.

Simply...

Aware.

As though every tree knew I was there.

Every branch.

Every root.

Every gust of wind.

I slipped my hands into my jacket pockets, following the barely visible game trail winding between the ancient trunks.

"...Well..."

I muttered to myself.

"So much for sticking together."

The others had disappeared nearly an hour ago.

One moment we'd all been walking beneath the same towering trees.

The next...

The forest had simply...

Taken them.

No panic.

No confusion.

I'd rounded a bend in the path.

And suddenly...

I was alone.

I'd tried calling out once.

No answer.

Not even an echo.

It wasn't eerie.

If anything...

It felt intentional.

Like the forest had quietly whispered, this part is yours.

I let out a slow breath.

"...Figures."

My boots crunched softly over fallen leaves.

The rhythmic sound became almost comforting.

There wasn't much else to do except keep walking.

So...

I walked.

After several more minutes, my thoughts began to wander.

That was always dangerous.

Whenever my mind had nothing to focus on...

It usually found something.

A memory.

A conversation.

A random fact.

Or...

A song.

A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"...Of course."

I chuckled quietly to myself.

Only my brain would decide now was the perfect time for music.

I cleared my throat.

Then, with nobody around to hear me embarrass myself...

Or so I thought...

I began singing.

"I walk a lonely road..."

My voice drifted softly between the trees.

"The only one that I have ever known..."

I smiled to myself.

"Don't know where it goes..."

I glanced up through the canopy.

"But it's home to me..."

I laughed under my breath.

"...Fitting."

The lyrics felt almost uncomfortably appropriate.

Here I was.

Alone.

Walking through an ancient magical forest that apparently judged people based on who they really were.

I had absolutely no idea where I was going.

Or what waited at the end.

The irony wasn't lost on me.

"I walk this empty street..."

The words echoed quietly beneath the endless branches.

"On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams...Broken Dreams..."

I repeated softly after the verse ended.

"...That's one way to describe my life."

Not bitterly.

Just...

Matter of factly.

I'd had dreams once.

Simple ones.

Graduate.

Get a decent job.

Maybe buy a little land someday.

Build a tank.

Live somewhere quiet.

Instead...

I'd somehow managed to die.

Wake up.

Travel through time.

Meet four hundred year old healers.

Introduce electricity to another world.

And now...

I was wandering through a magical forest on my way to learn Elven magic.

"...Life's weird."

I said aloud.

A squirrel chattered somewhere overhead.

"...Glad somebody agrees."

I continued down the winding trail, humming the tune quietly now rather than singing the lyrics.

The melody seemed...

Oddly fitting.

Not because it was sad.

Because it understood something.

Sometimes...

Life wasn't about knowing where the road ended.

Sometimes...

It was enough to simply keep walking.

The forest seemed to agree.

The breeze picked up again.

Not enough to disturb the trees.

Just enough to carry the final notes of the melody deeper into the ancient woods.

For just a heartbeat...

I could've sworn...

Someone...

Somewhere beyond the trees...

Was listening.

I stopped walking.

The melody faded into silence.

The forest answered with nothing more than the gentle rustling of leaves overhead.

"...Hello?"

No reply.

Not even an echo.

I waited another few seconds before letting out a quiet chuckle.

"...Congratulations, Alex." I muttered. "...You're talking to the woods now."

A bluebird landed on a low branch a few feet away.

It tilted its head.

Then chirped once.

"...Don't encourage me."

The bird promptly flew away.

"...Traitor."

Shaking my head, I continued down the winding trail.

Time became... difficult to judge.

The sun remained visible through the canopy.

Yet it never seemed to move.

The shadows shifted.

The breeze changed direction several times.

But the morning somehow refused to become afternoon.

"...Either I'm walking in circles..."

I glanced upward.

"...Or this place doesn't care much for clocks."

Not that I had one anymore.

My phone had died several days ago.

The battery had finally surrendered after a week of photographs, notes, and repeatedly showing everyone what Earth looked like.

I still carried it.

Mostly because...

It contained home.

Pictures of Mom.

Pictures of Kylie.

Andy.

Doc.

The sanctuary.

Lady Sayuri.

Even the blurry photograph I'd managed to take with the Camera Obscura.

That and I haven't used the Lightning Shock spell to recharge it. Unlike with my helmet's equipment I had to do it manually.

Though dead battery or not...

I wasn't leaving it behind.

The path gradually narrowed.

The towering oaks slowly gave way to trees unlike any I'd seen before.

Their trunks possessed bark so dark it appeared almost black.

Not charred.

Naturally black.

Their leaves shimmered with deep emerald hues that almost seemed blue whenever the sunlight caught them.

"...Huh."

I slowed.

"Different species."

Kneeling beside one of the roots, I ran my fingers lightly across the bark.

Smooth.

Cool.

Almost stone-like.

"...Interesting."

No burn marks.

No disease.

No corruption.

Just...

Different.

I stood once more.

"...Guess I'm entering a new part of the forest."

Several more minutes passed.

The forest gradually changed around me.

The birds became quieter.

The undergrowth grew thinner.

Large patches of pale moss covered the forest floor instead of grass.

Massive crystalline formations began emerging naturally from the earth.

Some no larger than my hand.

Others...

Towered over me.

Clear as glass.

Yet somehow...

Growing directly from solid stone.

Sunlight refracted through them.

Painting ribbons of blue, violet, and silver across the surrounding trees.

I couldn't help smiling.

"...Okay..." I whispered. "...That's beautiful."

For several moments, I simply stood there.

Watching the light dance through the crystal.

The entire forest seemed to glow.

Not brightly.

Softly.

As though morning itself had settled among the trees.

"...No wonder the elves protect this place."

I murmured.

"If people back home found this..."

I looked around.

"...It'd become a tourist attraction within a year."

I imagined souvenir shops.

Gift stands.

People carving their initials into crystal.

"...Yeah..."

I shook my head.

"...Let's not."

The trail disappeared.

Not gradually.

Entirely.

One step there had been a clear path.

The next...

Nothing.

Only untouched moss stretched in every direction.

"...Well."

I rested my hands on my hips.

"I suppose that's one way to tell me to stop following roads."

The silence remained patient.

Waiting.

I remembered what Elder Aelion had said.

"The forest rewards observation."

Right.

Observe.

Not rush.

I slowly turned in a complete circle.

Looking.

Really looking.

Most of the trees appeared identical.

Until...

One.

Its roots curved differently.

Not naturally.

Intentionally.

Almost...

Like an arrow.

Pointing.

"...You're subtle."

I muttered with a grin.

Following the direction the roots indicated, I stepped carefully between two enormous crystal pillars.

Immediately...

The air changed.

Cooler.

Fresher.

The scent of pine vanished.

Replaced by something sweeter.

Wildflowers.

Rain.

Fresh stone.

It smelled...

Ancient.

A low hum drifted through the forest.

Not mechanical.

Natural.

Almost like someone quietly singing from miles away.

The crystals.

I stopped beside one.

Resting my fingertips lightly against its smooth surface.

It vibrated.

Barely.

Just enough to feel.

"...You're making that noise."

The humming deepened for a moment.

Then settled once more.

"...Okay..."

I whispered.

"...That's officially one of the coolest things I've ever seen."

I continued onward.

The trees gradually spread farther apart.

Sunlight grew brighter.

The crystal formations became larger.

Some stretched nearly fifty feet into the air.

Others arched overhead like naturally formed gateways.

Then...

I noticed something.

A line.

Perfectly straight.

Nature rarely made straight lines.

I frowned.

Walking closer.

At first...

I thought it was another crystal.

Then I realized...

It wasn't crystal.

It was stone.

Dark gray.

Almost black.

Perfectly smooth.

Half buried beneath moss and roots.

"...That's..."

I crouched beside it.

Running my hand across its surface.

Tool marks.

Not recent.

Ancient.

Someone had carved this.

My pulse quickened.

"...No way."

I brushed away centuries of moss.

More stone emerged.

Then another.

Then another.

Each fitted together so perfectly I could barely make out the seams.

It wasn't a boulder.

It was a wall.

A very...

Very old wall.

I slowly stood.

Looking beyond the trees.

The forest remained silent.

Patient.

Almost expectant.

"...Well..."

I adjusted the strap of my satchel.

"I don't think this is on the map."

Taking a slow breath...

I stepped over the ancient stones.

And continued deeper into the forgotten heart of the Elder Forest.

The ancient wall disappeared beneath the roots almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Tree after tree had claimed it.

Great roots, thicker than a man's torso, had split sections of the black stone apart over countless centuries. Moss carpeted every exposed surface, while delicate white flowers bloomed from cracks that had likely existed for hundreds of years.

Yet...

Despite nature's patient work...

The craftsmanship remained unmistakable.

Someone had built this.

And they'd built it to last.

I slowly walked alongside the wall, my fingers trailing lightly over the smooth stone.

"...Who were you?"

I murmured.

The forest, unsurprisingly, declined to answer.

The wall curved gently.

Not randomly.

Purposefully.

As though it had once enclosed something important.

A city...

A fortress...

Perhaps a temple.

The stones themselves were unlike anything I'd seen among the Kitsune or the elves.

Elarion favored pale living wood that seemed almost grown into shape.

The Kitsune blended polished timber with natural stone.

This...

This was different.

Dark.

Elegant.

The blocks possessed almost no ornamentation.

No carvings.

No decorative flourishes.

Simply clean lines and impossible precision.

Whoever had built this hadn't believed beauty required excess.

"...Minimalist." I muttered. "I can respect that."

A few yards farther...

I found the first doorway.

Or...

What had once been one.

Half of the arch had collapsed centuries ago.

The remaining half still stood proudly against the slow march of time.

Its keystone remained perfectly in place.

I crouched beside one of the fallen stones.

No mortar.

No cement.

Each block had been cut so precisely that they locked together under their own weight.

"...Huh."

I whistled quietly.

"...That's impressive."

Even on Earth, craftsmanship like this would've drawn attention.

Stepping through the ruined archway...

I found myself standing upon an ancient road.

Not dirt.

Stone.

Wide enough for three wagons to travel side by side.

Though...

No wagon had crossed it in a very...

Very long time.

Grass had pushed between every seam.

Roots had lifted entire sections.

Small saplings now grew directly through the roadway itself.

Nature hadn't destroyed it.

She'd simply...

Claimed it.

I slowly turned in place.

"...This wasn't some outpost."

My voice barely rose above a whisper.

"This was a city."

The realization settled heavily in my chest.

Not because cities were unusual.

Because...

No one had mentioned it.

Not Elder Aelion.

Not Thalion.

Not any of the scholars.

Not even Akane.

Either...

Nobody knew it existed.

Or...

Nobody spoke about it.

Neither possibility particularly comforted me.

A faint breeze drifted through the empty streets.

Unlike before...

It carried sound.

Not voices.

Something softer.

Wind passing through hollow stone.

It almost sounded...

Like distant singing.

I tilted my head.

Listening.

The sound disappeared.

"...Wind."

I decided.

Probably.

The road continued deeper.

Buildings gradually emerged from beneath the trees.

Some still stood remarkably intact.

Others had collapsed into little more than weathered foundations.

Every structure shared the same architectural style.

Tall.

Graceful.

Their corners curved gently instead of ending in sharp angles.

Large windows overlooked the streets.

Balconies wrapped around upper floors.

Stone columns supported elegant archways.

Everything seemed...

Open.

Designed to invite sunlight rather than keep it out.

"...Beautiful."

I admitted quietly.

Then...

I noticed something strange.

No vines covered the buildings.

I frowned.

That...

Didn't make sense.

The surrounding forest had reclaimed everything else.

Yet the walls themselves remained strangely clear.

Moss grew near their foundations.

Trees surrounded them.

But climbing plants...

Stopped.

Almost respectfully.

A few inches from the stone.

"...Now that's odd."

I approached one wall carefully.

Kneeling once more.

No magical barrier.

No visible runes.

Nothing.

I cautiously reached forward.

My fingertips brushed the dark stone.

Cool.

Smooth.

Completely ordinary.

"...You're hiding something."

I murmured.

The moment the words left my mouth...

The humming I'd heard among the crystals...

Stopped.

Every bird fell silent.

Even the breeze seemed to pause.

The forest held its breath.

A chill slowly crawled down my spine.

"...That's..."

I whispered.

"...Never a good sign."

I remained perfectly still.

Listening.

Waiting.

Nothing.

Then...

Click.

Soft.

Metallic.

Behind me.

Not loud.

Just...

Enough.

Every hunting instinct I'd ever developed immediately surfaced.

I didn't spin around.

Didn't reach for my pistol.

Didn't even move.

Someone...

Was there.

I could feel it.

Watching.

Studying.

Measuring.

The silence stretched.

One second.

Then five.

Then ten.

Finally...

A calm voice spoke from somewhere behind me.

Not hostile.

Not welcoming.

Simply...

Curious.

"...You are not lost."

It wasn't a question.

I slowly smiled.

"...No."

I answered without turning around.

"I don't think I am."

Another pause.

"...Interesting."

The voice replied.

"...Most who find this place believe they have wandered here by accident."

I kept my hands where they were.

Visible.

Relaxed.

"I don't really believe in accidents anymore."

The silence that followed felt...

Different.

Almost amused.

"...Neither..."

The unseen stranger said quietly.

"...Do we."

The forest...

Began breathing once again.

Leaves rustled overhead.

The crystalline hum slowly returned.

Birdsong echoed faintly in the distance.

As though the Elder Forest itself had been holding its breath...

Waiting.

I slowly turned around.

Not quickly.

There was no point.

If whoever stood behind me had wanted to attack...

They'd had ample opportunity.

Instead...

I found myself face to face with someone I hadn't expected.

An elf.

At least...

I was fairly certain she was.

Her ears were unmistakably pointed.

Long enough to extend through the curtain of raven-black hair cascading nearly to the backs of her knees.

The sunlight filtering through the canopy caught faint violet highlights hidden among the otherwise midnight-colored strands.

She stood with effortless confidence.

Not aggressive.

Not defensive.

Simply...

Comfortable.

As though she'd been standing in this forgotten city for centuries.

Her skin carried a warm olive complexion that contrasted beautifully against her dark clothing.

A long black coat hung open around her, its inner lining a deep royal purple that caught the light whenever the breeze stirred it.

Beneath it she wore a fitted black vest over a high-collared white blouse embroidered with an elegant black crest I didn't recognize.

Dark trousers disappeared into tall leather boots laced nearly to her knees.

A sword rested comfortably across her back.

Not drawn.

Not even touched.

Its hilt protruded over one shoulder, wrapped in dark violet cord.

She wore a pair of thin spectacles.

Something about that...

Caught me off guard.

For some reason...

I'd never expected to meet an elf wearing glasses.

Golden eyes regarded me through the lenses.

Sharp.

Curious.

Intelligent.

Not suspicious.

Just...

Interested.

The corner of her mouth held the faintest hint of a smile.

Not mocking.

More...

Amused.

Like someone watching an animal wander into a library.

"...You took longer to turn around than I expected."

Her voice was calm.

Smooth.

Measured.

There wasn't an ounce of hostility in it.

I shrugged.

"I figured if you hadn't stabbed me yet..."

I smiled.

"...You probably weren't planning to."

Her eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.

"...Reasonable."

"I try."

Silence settled between us.

Neither of us seemed particularly eager to fill it.

Finally...

She inclined her head ever so slightly.

"My name is Yao."

I returned the gesture.

"Alex."

"I know."

I blinked.

"...You do?"

She nodded once.

"The forest informed us."

I stared.

"...The forest talks?"

"No."

She answered.

"It communicates."

"...That's somehow more confusing."

"It usually is."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"...You know, I'm noticing a pattern."

"Oh?"

"The older a civilization gets..."

I gestured vaguely around us.

"...The less straightforward anyone becomes."

For the first time...

The faint smile on her lips became genuine.

"It appears Elder Thalion has already made an impression."

I pointed.

"See? That. How do you know Thalion?"

Her smile remained.

"You assumed I know him."

"...You just said his name."

"I did."

She admitted.

"...Fair enough."

I sighed dramatically.

"I keep walking into these."

"So I've noticed."

She stepped closer.

Not enough to invade my space.

Just enough that I could see the intricate silver filigree decorating the rims of her glasses.

Even those had been crafted beautifully.

Nothing about her attire seemed ostentatious.

Everything served a purpose.

Elegant.

Practical.

Timeless.

She looked past me toward the ancient roadway.

"You've been observing."

"I have."

"You touched the wall."

"I did."

"You noticed the vines."

"Yeah."

"You noticed the roots."

"Yep."

"You noticed the crystals resonate."

I nodded again.

"I did."

She regarded me for another long moment.

"...Most visitors do not."

"...Really?"

"They see ruins."

She slowly turned, looking toward the dark stone buildings surrounding us.

"You saw construction."

I hadn't thought about it that way.

"I suppose."

"You examined the joints. The stone. The architecture. The craftsmanship."

She glanced sideways at me.

"You asked who built it. Not,'What happened here?"

I scratched my cheek.

"...Occupational curiosity?"

"What is your occupation?"

I opened my mouth.

Then paused.

"...Honestly? I'm not entirely sure anymore."

That earned a quiet chuckle.

"A fair answer."

"I used to farm. I write. I build things. I hunt. I accidentally become involved in events much larger than myself."

Her golden eyes studied me.

"The last occupation seems to consume most of your time."

"...Unfortunately."

She laughed.

A soft laugh.

Quiet enough that it blended with the whispering trees.

"I believe..." She said. "...You'll fit in rather well."

I frowned.

"...Fit in?"

She turned.

Looking deeper into the ancient city.

"You've already noticed something important."

"I have?"

She nodded.

"You called these..."

She gestured toward the surrounding structures.

"...Ruins."

"I did."

Her smile returned.

"They aren't."

Silence.

I slowly looked beyond her.

Past the broken archways.

Past the weathered streets.

Past the towering black stone buildings disappearing into the forest.

"...They're not?"

"No."

She met my gaze once more.

"They're home."

Before I could ask what she meant...

A bell rang somewhere deep within the city.

Its tone was low.

Resonant.

Ancient.

One bell became three.

Three became dozens.

The sound rolled through the forgotten streets like gentle thunder.

Yao smiled.

"...Perfect timing."

"For what?"

She started walking down the ancient road.

Without looking back, she answered.

"...The city has just learned..."

She glanced over one shoulder, her golden eyes catching the scattered rays of sunlight filtering through the canopy.

"...That a human has arrived."

She continued walking.

Unhurried.

As though she had every confidence I'd follow.

"...Well..." I muttered to myself. "I suppose standing here isn't accomplishing much."

Adjusting the strap of my satchel, I fell into step a few paces behind her.

The ancient road stretched onward between towering buildings of polished black stone.

Now that I was actually walking through the city...

I noticed details I'd missed before.

The buildings weren't abandoned.

Not entirely.

Flower boxes rested beneath several windows.

Fresh ivy climbed carefully maintained trellises.

Someone had swept the streets.

There wasn't a layer of centuries old dust.

Nor piles of fallen leaves.

The city wasn't dead.

It was...

Lived in.

Quietly.

Almost...

Intentionally hidden.

"...You know."

I finally spoke.

"You could've warned me."

Yao glanced sideways.

"About what?"

"I've spent the last ten minutes thinking I was wandering through ancient ruins."

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"You were."

"...What?"

"They are ancient."

She replied matter of factly.

"They simply are not abandoned."

"...You enjoy being technically correct, don't you?"

"It saves time."

"It also causes headaches."

"I've heard."

I sighed.

"...You'd get along with Lady Sayuri."

Her eyebrow lifted.

"I do not know this Lady Sayuri."

"...Right."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Wrong century."

She looked at me.

Not confused.

Just...

Interested.

"...That is an unusual sentence."

"It has been an unusual month."

"I believe that."

The bells continued ringing.

Not frantically.

Rhythmically.

Measured.

Each deep tone echoed between the black stone buildings before slowly fading into the forest beyond.

"What do they mean?"

I asked.

"They announce visitors."

She answered.

"Only visitors?"

"Not always."

"What else?"

She thought for a moment.

"Births. Deaths. Meetings. Festivals. Emergencies."

She smiled faintly.

"...And when Elder Jian accidentally set the western greenhouse on fire."

I blinked.

"...That seems oddly specific."

"It has happened twice."

"...Twice?"

"The second time was considerably more embarrassing."

I laughed.

"I think I'd like Elder Jian."

"So do most people."

The road widened into an enormous plaza.

I stopped without realizing it.

"...Whoa."

The city opened before me.

What I'd mistaken for scattered ruins...

Was actually an entire civilization.

Broad avenues radiated outward from the central square.

Graceful bridges arched over narrow streams of impossibly clear water.

Tall crystal pillars stood at regular intervals throughout the plaza, humming softly as sunlight passed through them.

Gardens overflowed with flowers I'd never seen before.

Trees bearing silver leaves shaded stone benches where elves sat quietly reading.

Everywhere I looked...

There was life.

Children darted between fountains, laughing as they chased one another across polished stone walkways.

Artisans worked beneath open pavilions, carving wood, shaping crystal, and weaving fabrics dyed in deep blues and rich purples.

Scholars sat together beneath flowering trees, scrolls spread across low tables as animated discussions drifted through the air.

There were no raised voices.

No shouting merchants.

No chaos.

The city moved with a quiet rhythm.

Peaceful.

Purposeful.

Like everyone understood exactly where they belonged.

"...Beautiful."

I whispered.

Yao looked toward me.

"We think so."

Then...

People noticed me.

One conversation stopped.

Then another.

A child froze mid-stride.

A craftsman slowly lowered his chisel.

Two scholars looked up from a scroll simultaneously.

Within seconds...

The entire plaza had become noticeably quieter.

Nobody panicked.

Nobody reached for a weapon.

They simply...

Stared.

"...I'm being stared at again."

I muttered.

Yao nodded.

"You are."

"I was hoping that would stop eventually."

"It likely won't."

"...Wonderful."

A little girl, perhaps seven years old, peeked around one of the crystal pillars.

Unlike the adults...

She wasn't cautious.

She was curious.

She stared openly at me.

Then...

She pointed.

"...He's round."

Silence.

I blinked.

"...Excuse me?"

Yao covered her mouth with one hand.

Her shoulders trembled.

She was laughing.

The little girl tilted her head.

"His ears."

She explained earnestly.

"They're round."

I instinctively reached up and touched one.

"...They are."

She nodded enthusiastically.

"...That's adorable."

Several nearby adults sighed in embarrassment.

An older elf hurried over.

"My apologies."

He bowed politely.

"Children occasionally say whatever enters their minds."

"It's alright."

I smiled.

"Honestly..."

I looked back at the little girl.

"...You're not wrong."

She beamed.

"I know."

That earned a much louder laugh from everyone nearby.

Even I couldn't help it.

The little girl cautiously stepped closer.

No fear.

Only fascination.

"...Can I ask something?"

"Sure."

She pointed at my face.

"Does it hurt?"

"...Does what hurt?"

"Having round ears."

I stared at her.

"...No."

"...Have they always been round?"

"...Yep."

"...Can you move them?"

I wiggled them slightly with the muscles around my scalp.

"...Not very much."

She gasped.

"You can move them!"

"Barely."

She immediately turned toward Yao.

"I want round ears."

Yao smiled patiently.

"I believe you'll survive with pointed ones."

The child sighed dramatically.

"...Fine."

An elderly elf approached from the opposite side of the plaza.

Unlike everyone else...

He wasn't looking at me.

He was looking at Yao.

"So."

He said calmly.

"You found him."

"I did."

He nodded once.

"The bells suggested as much."

His eyes finally settled on me.

Warm amber met curious hazel.

"...Welcome."

He inclined his head respectfully.

"My name is Jian."

I blinked.

"...Wait. The greenhouse?"

Yao failed to suppress another laugh.

Jian closed his eyes.

"...I should have known that story would reach you before I did."

I grinned.

"...Twice?"

He sighed.

"...Twice."

"How?"

He looked toward the sky as though asking the ancestors for patience.

"The first incident involved experimental fertilizer."

"Oh no."

"The second..."

He paused.

"...Was remarkably similar."

I laughed.

"You didn't learn the first time?"

"I believed..."

He replied with complete sincerity.

"...That I had identified the error."

"And?"

"I had."

He admitted.

"...Unfortunately, I introduced a new one."

Even Yao laughed aloud at that.

I couldn't help smiling.

"...You know, I think we're going to get along just fine."

Jian chuckled.

"I had precisely the same thought."

He gestured toward the broad avenue leading deeper into the city.

"The Council has already gathered."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...Already?"

"The bells travel quickly."

He smiled.

"...News travels faster."

Yao looked toward me.

"They're waiting."

I took one slow breath.

Then another.

"...Let me guess."

Jian's smile widened ever so slightly.

"You are about to answer..."

He folded his hands behind his back.

"...A great many questions."

I let out a long sigh.

"...Somehow..." I muttered. "...I had a feeling you were going to say that."

Jian chuckled knowingly.

"Do not worry."

He began walking once more.

"Our council enjoys conversation far more than interrogation."

Yao glanced sideways at him.

"That depends."

He looked back innocently.

"On?"

"Whether Elder Shen is present."

"...Ah."

He nodded.

"...That is fair."

I looked between the two of them.

"...Should I be concerned?"

"Only if he begins asking mathematical questions. Yao answered.

"He once spent three hours arguing over the proper curvature of an arch."

Jian sighed.

"It was an important discussion."

"So important..." Yao replied. "...That half the council quietly left."

"...Cowards."

I couldn't help laughing.

"...I'm starting to think every civilization has that one engineer."

"Oh..."

Jian smiled.

"We have several."

We continued deeper into the city.

The farther we walked...

The more amazed I became.

Everything...

Absolutely everything...

Looked cared for.

The streets weren't merely clean.

They were immaculate.

Dark stone paving reflected the afternoon sunlight with a subtle sheen, as though someone polished it regularly.

Not a crack had been ignored.

Not a loose stone left unrepaired.

Even where tree roots had lifted sections of the road...

The elves hadn't cut the roots away.

Instead...

The roadway had been carefully rebuilt around them.

Stone gently curved upward and back down again, allowing the ancient roots to continue growing undisturbed.

I slowed to examine it.

"...You built around the tree."

Jian nodded.

"It was here first."

I smiled.

"I like that."

"So do we."

A little farther ahead...

A narrow canal flowed beside the road.

Crystal-clear water rushed gently through channels carved directly into the black stone.

The sound was soft.

Peaceful.

Not a single drop appeared stagnant.

Every few dozen yards the water disappeared beneath decorative stone grates before emerging again farther along.

"...Drainage?" I asked.

Yao looked at me.

"Irrigation." She answered. "The excess continues toward the lower gardens."

I crouched beside the canal.

The water was so clear I could see tiny silver fish swimming lazily near the bottom.

"...Gravity fed." I murmured. "Efficient."

"You understand hydraulics?" Jian asked.

"A little." I admitted. "I helped design something similar for another village."

Both elves looked at me.

"Another village?"

I immediately realized what I'd said.

"...Long story."

Yao's lips curled upward.

"I am beginning to suspect most stories involving you are."

"...That's accurate."

We crossed a graceful stone bridge.

No railings.

Just elegantly curved sides that flowed naturally from the bridge itself.

As we reached the center...

I stopped again.

The view stole my breath.

The city stretched across the forest like something from a dream.

Instead of forcing nature aside...

The buildings seemed woven into it.

Massive trees rose through open courtyards.

Homes had been built around trunks hundreds of years old.

Balconies wrapped around branches thick enough to support entire gardens.

Crystal lanterns hung beneath the canopy, catching the sunlight and scattering rainbows across the streets below.

"...This..." I whispered. "...Is incredible."

Neither Jian nor Yao spoke.

They simply waited.

Giving me time to take it in.

"It's..."

I searched for the right words.

"...Alive."

Yao nodded.

"It is."

"No..."

I smiled.

"I don't mean literally."

I gestured toward the city.

"Everything feels... Connected."

Jian looked pleased.

"That was the intention."

"The Kitsune Sanctuary..."

I continued.

"...Feels like a village built within a forest."

I looked around once more.

"This..."

I slowly turned in a complete circle.

"...Feels like the forest decided it wanted to become a city."

The two elves exchanged a brief glance.

Then Jian laughed.

"...I have lived here for over two thousand years." He said. "...And that may be the most accurate description I have ever heard."

As we continued walking...

I noticed something else.

No guards.

At least...

Not obvious ones.

"...Where's your military?"

Yao looked at me.

"We have one."

"I figured."

"But I haven't seen anyone."

"You have."

She replied.

I blinked.

"...I have?"

She subtly gestured toward a gardener trimming a flowering bush.

I looked.

Older man.

Simple clothes.

Pruning shears.

Didn't seem particularly threatening.

"...Him?"

"Yes."

I looked again.

Only now...

I noticed the calluses.

Not gardening calluses.

Sword calluses.

His posture.

Perfect balance.

His awareness.

Though he never looked directly at us...

I suddenly realized he'd known exactly where we were the entire time.

"...Sneaky."

I muttered.

Yao smiled faintly.

"He retired."

"...From gardening?"

"No." She replied. "From being Commander of the Eastern Watch."

I stared.

"...You're kidding."

"No."

I looked back again.

The old elf noticed.

He smiled.

Then casually waved with the pruning shears before returning to his flowers.

"...That's..."

I laughed.

"...Actually kind of awesome."

The deeper we ventured...

The more artisans I noticed.

Glassblowers shaped molten crystal into delicate ornaments.

Stone masons carved statues so lifelike I half expected them to begin breathing.

Weavers worked enormous looms beneath shaded pavilions.

The fabrics they produced shimmered with colors that seemed almost impossible.

Some changed hue whenever the light struck them differently.

Others appeared embroidered with silver threads so fine they were nearly invisible.

"...How long does it take to make one?"

I asked one elderly weaver.

She smiled without stopping her work.

"...This one?"

She glanced down.

"...Approximately four months."

I blinked.

"...For one piece of cloth?"

She nodded.

"It will likely outlive me."

I quietly watched her hands.

Every movement precise.

Unhurried.

"...Worth it."

I murmured.

She smiled warmly.

"I believe so."

Then...

Music.

Soft at first.

A flute.

Then another.

Soon joined by a stringed instrument unlike anything I'd seen before.

The melody drifted lazily through the streets.

Nobody stopped to listen.

Because...

They didn't need to.

It simply became part of the city itself.

Like birdsong.

Like flowing water.

Like breathing.

"...Live musicians?"

I asked.

Jian looked surprised.

"Of course."

"You don't use..."

I caught myself.

"...Never mind."

He smiled.

"I suspect your world has another machine."

"...Several."

"I thought so."

A group of children raced past us.

Laughing.

One nearly collided with me before skidding to a halt.

"...Sorry!"

"No worries."

I smiled.

He looked up at me.

His eyes widened.

"...You're the human!"

"...Apparently."

He turned toward his friends.

"I won!"

One of the others groaned dramatically.

"I told you he'd be taller!"

"...Wait."

I blinked.

"Were you betting on my height?"

The children immediately looked guilty.

"...Maybe."

Yao quietly pinched the bridge of her nose.

Jian simply burst out laughing.

"...Children."

He chuckled.

"...They've been arguing ever since the bells rang."

I sighed dramatically.

"...You know, I don't think I've ever been the subject of this many bets."

Yao looked at me with complete seriousness.

"You have only been here seven minutes."

I stared at her.

"...That..." I admitted. "...Does not make me feel better."

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

She laughed openly.

Not the restrained smile she'd worn before.

A genuine laugh.

Warm.

Rich.

Unforced.

It echoed softly through the street.

Several nearby elves turned to look.

Not at me...

But at her.

One elderly shopkeeper smiled knowingly.

"...Well."

He murmured to no one in particular.

"...That's a sound we haven't heard in some time."

Yao composed herself almost immediately, though a faint smile lingered on her lips.

"...Come." She said. "The council chamber is just ahead."

I followed her gaze.

Beyond the trees...

Beyond another elegant bridge...

Rose the largest structure I'd yet seen.

It wasn't a palace.

It wasn't a fortress.

It was...

A library.

Or at least...

It looked like one.

Its soaring black stone arches intertwined with the trunks of ancient trees, while crystal windows reflected the afternoon sun like sheets of liquid silver.

Books.

Knowledge.

Learning.

Somehow...

I wasn't surprised that the heart of their civilization wasn't a castle.

It was a place to ask questions.

The building stood at the center of the city like the trunk of an ancient tree.

Not because it towered over everything else.

Because everything else seemed to grow naturally around it.

Massive pillars of polished black stone rose nearly sixty feet before branching outward like the limbs of an oak. Between them stretched enormous crystal windows, each one depicting scenes from Elven history.

Not battles.

Not kings.

Not conquest.

Learning.

One window showed an elder teaching children beneath a great tree.

Another depicted craftsmen building alongside scholars.

A third showed healers tending to wounded of several different races.

"...That's different." I murmured.

Yao glanced toward me.

"What is?"

"The stained glass."

She followed my gaze.

"Oh."

"In my world..." I continued. "...Buildings this important usually have paintings of rulers."

She tilted her head.

"...Why?"

I shrugged.

"I've wondered the same thing."

That earned a quiet chuckle from Jian.

"Our rulers change." He replied. "Knowledge remains."

I smiled.

"...I like your philosophy."

"So do we."

The broad staircase leading toward the entrance wasn't particularly steep.

Wide enough for perhaps twenty people to walk abreast.

Every step had been carved from a single block of black stone.

Not one showed signs of cracking.

Not one had shifted.

Whoever had built this place...

Had expected it to stand forever.

As we climbed...

I noticed another detail.

The handrails.

Rather than metal or carved stone...

They were living branches.

Entire trees had been guided over centuries until their limbs naturally formed elegant railings.

I reached out.

Running my fingers lightly across the bark.

Warm.

Not physically.

Just...

Alive.

"...You trained the trees."

Jian nodded.

"It takes patience."

"I imagine."

"About three hundred years."

I nearly missed the next step.

"...Three hundred?"

"Approximately." He answered casually. "As I said. Patience."

I laughed.

"...You elves have a very different definition of 'long-term planning.'"

Yao looked almost amused.

"You planned to build flying machines."

"...Fair."

As we reached the top...

The enormous doors slowly opened before anyone touched them.

Not magically.

I noticed the mechanism almost immediately.

Hidden counterweights.

Pulleys concealed inside the walls.

Perfectly balanced.

The moment the doors began moving...

I instinctively looked upward.

"...Interesting."

Jian noticed.

"You've already found it."

"The counterweight system."

I nodded.

"...Elegant."

"No enchantments?"

"Only a few." Yao answered. "The mechanism does most of the work."

I smiled.

"Whoever designed it knew what they were doing."

A faint smile crossed Jian's face.

"He'll be pleased to hear that."

"...He's still alive?"

"He designed the most recent improvements."

I blinked.

"...How old is he?"

Jian thought for a moment.

"...Approximately, one thousand eight hundred."

"...Yeah."

I nodded slowly.

"...That tracks."

The moment I stepped inside...

I stopped.

Again.

"...Holy..."

The interior dwarfed anything I'd seen before.

Shelves.

Thousands of them.

Perhaps tens of thousands.

They rose in enormous circles around a vast open chamber.

Spiral staircases wrapped around towering columns.

Crystal bridges connected the upper levels.

Sunlight streamed down through a massive circular opening high overhead, illuminating floating particles of dust that glittered like tiny stars.

The scent hit me next.

Old paper.

Fresh ink.

Leather bindings.

Polished wood.

It smelled...

Like every library I'd ever loved.

Only...

Bigger.

Much bigger.

"...I think..." I whispered. "...I just found heaven."

Yao looked at me.

"...Heaven?"

"...A figure of speech."

I smiled.

"It means..."

I slowly turned in another circle.

"...This is my kind of place."

She looked around the immense library.

Then back at me.

"...Yes." She said simply. "I thought it might be."

Unlike the bustling city outside...

The interior was remarkably quiet.

Not silent.

Just...

Respectfully subdued.

Dozens of elves moved between shelves carrying stacks of books.

Others sat reading beneath hanging crystal lamps.

Some worked together around enormous tables covered in maps and manuscripts.

Nobody hurried.

Nobody rushed.

Knowledge wasn't treated like something to consume.

It was something to savor.

Several scholars noticed our arrival.

Their conversations paused.

Heads slowly turned.

Whispers immediately followed.

"...The human."

"...Already?"

"...He actually exists."

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

I sighed.

"...Again with the height."

Yao smiled.

"You'll grow accustomed to it."

"I sincerely doubt that."

One young librarian hurried toward us.

She couldn't have been much older than twenty by human standards.

Though with elves...

That meant absolutely nothing.

She bowed politely to Jian.

"Elder."

Then toward Yao.

"Archivist."

Finally...

She looked up at me.

Her eyes widened just slightly.

"...Welcome." She said.

"...Thank you."

She blinked.

Apparently she hadn't expected me to answer so quickly.

Then smiled.

"...They're waiting."

Jian nodded.

"We know."

She stepped aside.

"The council chamber has already been prepared."

We continued deeper into the library.

The architecture gradually shifted.

Public reading rooms gave way to quieter halls.

Large open spaces became narrower corridors lined with statues.

Each depicted an elf holding something different.

A book.

A hammer.

A flute.

A seedling.

A compass.

Not weapons.

I slowed beside one.

"...Who are they?"

"The Founders." Jian answered. "There were twelve."

I looked more closely.

"No kings? No queens?"

He shook his head.

"No."

"...Then who led you?"

He smiled.

"They did."

I frowned.

"...All twelve?"

"Each possessed different wisdom." Yao answered. "No single person should carry every answer."

I stood there for another moment.

Looking at the statues.

"...You know..." I said quietly. "...I'm starting to understand your people."

Eventually...

We reached a pair of towering double doors.

Unlike those at the entrance...

These bore carvings.

Not decorative patterns.

A tree.

Its roots spread across the entire surface.

Its branches reached upward until they disappeared into the stone itself.

Every leaf had been individually carved.

Hundreds.

Perhaps thousands.

"...Beautiful." I murmured.

Jian rested one hand upon one of the doors.

"The Hall of Branches." He said quietly. "The oldest council chamber in Elarion."

Yao looked toward me.

"You asked earlier whether you should be concerned."

"...Yeah?"

She smiled.

"I have revised my answer."

I raised an eyebrow.

"...Oh?"

"The mathematician is already inside."

I closed my eyes.

"...Of course he is."

Jian chuckled.

"You'll know him immediately."

"How?"

"He'll likely begin by correcting the dimensions of something."

"...I'm beginning to think every civilization really does have one."

Yao nodded solemnly.

"We have three."

Before I could respond...

The great doors slowly swung inward.

The murmur of quiet conversation drifted out.

Then stopped.

Every voice fell silent.

Dozens of ancient eyes turned toward the entrance.

And toward me.

Jian smiled pleasantly.

"...Alex." He said. "...Welcome to the Council of Elarion."

The conversation stopped.

Not gradually.

Instantly.

Dozens of conversations died in the span of a heartbeat as every pair of eyes turned toward the open doorway.

For a moment...

Nobody spoke.

I found myself looking around the chamber instead.

It wasn't arranged like a throne room.

There was no elevated dais.

No throne.

No chair larger than the others.

Instead...

A massive circular table dominated the room.

It had been carved from a single piece of black stone, polished until it reflected the crystal light above.

Around it sat perhaps thirty elders.

Each dressed differently.

Some wore robes.

Others practical clothing.

One still wore a leather smith's apron dusted with metallic filings.

Another carried a satchel overflowing with scrolls.

One woman had dirt beneath her fingernails.

A gardener.

Another smelled faintly of alchemical reagents.

No crowns.

No jewels.

No obvious symbols of rank.

Only experience.

"...Interesting."

I muttered.

Jian looked over.

"What is?"

"No uniforms."

A few of the elders smiled.

An older woman answered before Jian could.

"Wisdom rarely wears one."

"...I like that answer."

Jian stepped into the room.

"Elders."

He bowed politely.

"I present..."

He smiled slightly.

"...Alex."

Every eye settled on me again.

There wasn't hostility.

Nor suspicion.

Just...

Curiosity.

An uncomfortable amount of curiosity.

I gave a small wave.

"...Howdy."

Silence.

Then...

One elder slowly waved back.

"...Howdy."

Several others looked confused.

I smiled.

"...Close enough."

Laughter spread around the chamber.

The tension dissolved almost immediately.

Thalion sat near the center of the table.

He smiled the moment our eyes met.

"I see you found Yao."

"I did." I replied. "She has a habit of appearing unexpectedly."

Yao folded her arms.

"I prefer the word efficiently."

Several elders chuckled.

"...She's been saying that for eight hundred years. Someone muttered.

"I have." Yao answered unapologetically.

Then...

One elderly elf adjusted the spectacles resting upon the bridge of his nose.

Unlike everyone else...

He hadn't smiled.

He hadn't laughed.

He'd simply been studying me.

Calculating.

His white hair had been tied neatly behind his back, and beside him rested three separate slates covered in equations.

Numbers.

Symbols.

Geometric diagrams.

"...Ah."

Yao whispered beside me.

"There he is."

"The mathematician?"

"The mathematician."

I sighed quietly.

"...Wonderful."

The elder stood.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

He couldn't have been physically imposing if he'd tried.

He was thin.

Almost frail.

Yet...

The moment he rose...

The room instinctively gave him their attention.

"My name..." He said. "...Is Elder Shen."

His voice was calm.

Precise.

"I understand you possess an education unlike any found within this world."

"I've learned a few things." I answered honestly.

"So I have heard."

He picked up a piece of chalk.

"I have one question."

I glanced toward Yao.

She simply smiled.

"...Of course you do."

Without another word...

Shen turned toward a slate.

The chalk moved rapidly.

Within seconds...

The board contained an equation.

3x^2 - 14x + 8 = 0

He calmly stepped aside.

"Please."

I stared.

"...Seriously?"

The room became noticeably quieter.

Shen blinked.

"...Is something wrong?"

I rubbed my forehead.

"...No. It's just..."

I sighed dramatically.

"I hate algebra."

Silence.

Complete silence.

"...What?" Shen asked.

"I've never liked algebra." I admitted. "I can do it. I just don't enjoy it."

Several scholars looked horrified.

One whispered,

"...He dislikes mathematics?"

Another looked personally offended.

"...Impossible."

I held up a finger.

"I didn't say I disliked math. I said I disliked algebra. Geometry? I like. Calculus? Depends. Statistics? Burn it."

The room erupted into confused murmuring.

Shen cleared his throat.

"...The equation."

"...Right."

I looked back at the slate.

"...Quadratic."

I muttered.

"Could factor it..."

"...Or just use the quadratic formula."

I sighed again.

"...Fine."

Picking up another piece of chalk...

I wrote beneath his equation.

x=\frac{14\pm\sqrt{196-96}}{6}

A few scholars leaned forward.

"...One hundred."

I simplified.

x=\frac{14\pm10}{6}

"...So..."

x=4

"...Or..."

x=\frac{2}{3}

I set the chalk down.

"There."

Shen examined the work.

Then nodded once.

"...Correct."

I smiled.

"...Your turn."

His eyebrow lifted.

"...My turn?"

"You asked me one."

I shrugged.

"Seems only fair."

The elders exchanged curious glances.

Shen smiled slightly.

"I accept."

I walked over to the slate.

Then...

Stopped.

"...Actually..."

I frowned thoughtfully.

"No... Too easy."

I erased the corner I'd started writing in.

"...Not that one either."

Several scholars leaned closer.

Finally...

I nodded to myself.

"...Alright. This one."

I wrote carefully across the board.

Not an equation.

A statement.

The Riemann Hypothesis

Beneath it I wrote...

\text{Are all non-trivial zeros of the Riemann zeta function on the critical line } \Re(s)=\frac12\text{?}

Then I stepped aside.

Silence.

Utter silence.

Shen adjusted his glasses.

Looked at the board.

Then looked at me.

Then...

Back at the board.

"...Explain." He said quietly.

I smiled sheepishly.

"...I can't."

Several eyebrows shot upward.

"...You cannot?"

"Nope."

"Then why present it?"

"Because..."

I leaned against the table.

"...Nobody on my world has solved it either."

The room froze.

"...Pardon?"

"It's one of the greatest unsolved mathematical problems in my world." I explained. "Millions of mathematicians have studied it. For..."

I thought for a second.

"...About three hundred years."

Shen slowly stood straighter.

"...Three centuries, and no solution?"

"No confirmed proof." I answered. "We think it's true. But nobody has proven it."

Silence.

Deep...

Thoughtful...

Silence.

"...Your people preserve problems, for centuries?" One scholar finally whispered.

I nodded.

"Oh yeah. We've got several."

Shen's eyes never left the board.

A slow smile...

Almost childlike...

Spread across his face.

"...Magnificent."

He whispered.

Not because it had been solved.

Because...

It hadn't.

Around the room, more elders rose from their seats, drawn not by an answer, but by the existence of a question that had challenged an entire civilization for generations.

For the first time since entering the chamber...

Elder Shen laughed.

A genuine laugh.

"...Alex..." He said, still staring at the symbols on the slate. "...I believe..." He adjusted his spectacles one final time. "...You have just given me enough work to keep me happily occupied for the next several centuries."
Laughter rippled through the chamber.

Not loud.

Warm.

Several elders smiled knowingly.

One elderly woman shook her head.

"...There goes another mathematician."

Corwin quietly dipped his quill into fresh ink.

"I should begin preparing another shelf."

Shen didn't even look away from the board.

"...Three."

Corwin blinked.

"...Three?"

"Shelves."

Shen answered absently.

"I'll require at least three."

"...Noted."

Corwin immediately wrote something down.

I leaned over slightly.

"...Did he just seriously request more bookshelves because of one equation?"

Yao nodded.

"Yes."

"...Has he done that before?"

"Frequently."

"...Should I apologize?"

"No."

Jian smiled.

"You've made him happier than he's been in decades."

Shen slowly approached the slate again.

His fingers hovered just above the symbols.

Not touching them.

Simply...

Thinking.

"...Riemann..." He repeated quietly. "That is the name of your scholar?"

"It is."

"He proposed this?"

"In the nineteenth century."

Shen nodded thoughtfully.

"...And after three centuries, still no proof."

"No proof."

I confirmed.

"We've checked..."

I searched for an understandable comparison.

"...Imagine every grain of sand on every beach you've ever seen."

Several elders exchanged glances.

"We've checked numbers beyond comprehension." I continued. "The hypothesis still appears true. But, we still don't know."

Shen slowly smiled.

"...How delightfully infuriating."

Another elder, whose robe was covered in embroidered geometric patterns, stood from his seat.

"You said..."

He began carefully.

"...Your people believe it to be true."

"We do."

"But you refuse to declare it true."

I nodded.

"Until it's proven."

"...Even after centuries?"

"Especially after centuries."

Silence.

The elder slowly folded his arms.

"...Your civilization possesses remarkable patience."

I laughed.

"...Actually... No. We're incredibly impatient."

Several eyebrows rose.

"This..."

I gestured toward the slate.

"...Is one of the exceptions."

Lysandra smiled.

"Knowledge before certainty."

"Exactly."

I nodded.

"We've been wrong before. So, we learned not to assume."

One of the younger scholars couldn't contain himself any longer.

"...Have you solved it?"

I laughed.

"I wish. No. I barely understand half the papers written about it."

"You still know of it."

"I read."

I shrugged.

"Curiosity gets the better of me."

Thalion watched the exchange with quiet amusement.

Then...

He looked toward Shen.

"My old friend."

No response.

"Shen."

Still nothing.

The mathematician had already begun writing beneath the hypothesis.

Tiny notes.

Questions.

Symbols I didn't recognize.

Yao sighed.

"...We've lost him."

"...Lost him?"

She nodded.

"He'll reappear eventually."

"When?"

She thought for a moment.

"...Anywhere between tomorrow morning, and next spring."

I blinked.

"...You're joking."

"No."

Jian answered.

"The last time someone presented him with a genuinely difficult theorem..."

He smiled.

"...He forgot to attend his own birthday celebration."

Corwin looked up from his journal.

"...Twice."

"...Twice?"

"He forgot the rescheduled celebration."

I couldn't help laughing.

"...Okay. I officially love this guy."

Thalion finally rose from his chair.

"...Very well."

He looked around the chamber.

"Now that Elder Shen has departed..."

Shen looked up.

"...I haven't gone anywhere."

"You ceased participating in the meeting."

"I am listening."

"You are deriving equations."

"They are related."

Thalion smiled patiently.

"...Exactly."

A few quiet laughs spread around the room.

Shen looked genuinely confused.

"I fail to see the issue."

"We know." Yao replied.

Thalion turned back toward me.

"I believe..."

He folded his hands behind his back.

"...It is time we discuss why the forest brought you here."

The atmosphere shifted.

Immediately.

The humor faded.

Not completely.

But enough that everyone straightened slightly.

Even Shen...

Without taking his eyes off the board.

"...Continue."

Thalion walked slowly around the great circular table.

"For over three thousand years..."

He began.

"The Elder Forest has guided those it deemed worthy."

He looked toward the gathered council.

"It has never invited someone beyond our people."

He paused.

"Nor the Kitsune."

A few elders nodded solemnly.

"It has welcomed individuals from many races throughout history."

He continued.

"But..."

He looked directly at me.

"...Never by name."

That caught my attention.

"...By name?"

Aelion inclined his head.

"The forest did not simply request, a human."

He smiled faintly.

"It requested..."

He looked me squarely in the eyes.

"...Alex."

The chamber fell silent.

I blinked.

"...Hold on. You mean, it actually..."

I pointed toward myself.

"...Asked for me?"

"It did." Thalion answered simply.

"...Why?"

Silence.

No one answered.

Finally...

Aelion shook his head.

"We do not know."

I stared at the ancient elves gathered around the table.

"...That..." I admitted. "...Is somehow more concerning."

"It should be."

Thalion replied.

"We have spent the past week searching every record within Elarion."

He gestured toward the immense library surrounding us.

"We found no precedent. No prophecy. No historical account. No forgotten legend."

He smiled.

"You are..."

He searched briefly for the appropriate word.

"...Entirely unprecedented."

I rubbed both hands over my face.

"...You know, I was really hoping to avoid being special."

Yao raised an eyebrow.

"You introduced yourself to an ancient mathematician by assigning him a three hundred year old unsolved problem."

"...Fair."

"You also called Elder Thalion old."

"...He agreed!"

"He did."

She admitted.

"Which somehow made it worse."

Even Thalion laughed at that.

The laughter gradually subsided.

Then...

Thalion's expression became thoughtful once more.

"There remains..."

He said quietly.

"...One final question."

He looked toward me.

One that carried none of the earlier amusement.

Only genuine curiosity.

"...Alex."

"Yeah?"

"You have told us what your people have built. You have told us what your world has achieved. You have told us about your failures."

He paused.

Then asked softly,

"...What is it, that you seek?"

The chamber became perfectly still.

Not a quill moved.

Not a page turned.

For the first time since arriving in Elarion...

Thirty ancient minds weren't asking about my world.

They were asking about...

Me.

"What is it... that you seek?"

The question lingered in the chamber.

Simple.

Direct.

Yet...

It somehow felt heavier than any mathematical problem Elder Shen had placed before me.

I opened my mouth.

Then quietly closed it again.

"...Scheiße."

The unfamiliar word echoed softly through the council chamber.

Several elders blinked.

Thalion tilted his head ever so slightly.

"...I suspect..."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"...That was not Elvish."

I let out a quiet laugh.

"No."

I rubbed the back of my neck.

"It's German. And..."

I sighed.

"...That is one loaded question if I've ever heard one."

Several elders exchanged curious glances.

"...Loaded?"

One of the elders asked.

I nodded.

"It means..."

I searched for the right explanation.

"...A question that sounds simple. But isn't. It carries a lot behind it."

Thalion inclined his head.

"...Then take your time. There is no rush."

Silence settled over the chamber once more.

No one interrupted.

No one hurried me.

They simply...

Waited.

I looked down at the polished stone floor.

"...I honestly don't know."

That answer surprised a few of them.

"You do not?"

Yao asked gently.

I shook my head.

"No. I know what I'm curious about. I know what I enjoy. But..."

I looked back up.

"...What I actually seek?"

I shrugged helplessly.

"I couldn't honestly tell you."

Shen finally looked away from the Riemann Hypothesis.

"...Continue."

I took a slow breath.

"I'm a curious person. I always have been. I like exploring. I like figuring out how things work. If someone tells me not to push a button..."

A few smiles appeared around the table.

"...I'm going to spend the next hour wondering what happens if I do."

A ripple of laughter spread through the chamber.

"I'm the kind of person who'll take something apart..."

I continued.

"...Just to see how it was built. And then spend twice as long trying to put it back together."

Jian chuckled knowingly.

"...We've all done that."

"...Glad it's not just me."

I smiled.

"I like reading. I like writing. I like wandering through forests with absolutely no destination in mind. I can spend hours sitting beside a creek doing..."

I gestured vaguely.

"...Nothing. And somehow, I'll have the time of my life."

Several of the elders smiled.

They understood that feeling.

"But..."

My smile slowly faded.

"I'm also the kind of person that can't just..."

I searched for the right words.

"...Walk away."

The room grew quieter.

"If somebody needs help..."

I sighed softly.

"...I'll help. If someone's hurt, I'll stop. If somebody asks me a question, I'll usually answer it. I'll spend hours teaching someone something. Even if I was planning on doing something completely different."

I gave a small, self-conscious shrug.

"So I like being left alone. But I also like helping people. I like quiet. But, I don't mind sitting around talking for hours if it's a good conversation."

I smiled faintly.

"I enjoy disappearing into the woods by myself, then somehow end up making friends anyway."

That earned another warm laugh.

"...I'm..."

I rubbed the back of my neck again.

"...Basically a walking contradiction."

Yao tilted her head.

"...Contradiction?"

I nodded.

"I'm not really a people person. I don't like crowds. They drain me. I'd rather spend an afternoon reading a book, than attend a huge celebration."

I looked around the council chamber.

"And yet, I've never really had a problem talking to people. I don't get nervous meeting strangers. I don't mind asking questions. I don't mind answering them. I just..."

I chuckled quietly.

"...Need a day or two afterward where nobody talks to me."

The room filled with understanding smiles.

Jian actually laughed.

"...Ah. I understand."

I looked toward him.

"You do?"

He nodded.

"I once spent three weeks cultivating a rare grove...Alone. The happiest three weeks of my life."

Several elders immediately nodded.

One raised a hand.

"...I spent an entire season translating a single language...Bliss."

Another chimed in.

"I disappeared into the eastern archives for six months. No one noticed until winter."

Laughter erupted throughout the chamber.

I blinked.

"...You people are all introverts."

Thalion looked puzzled.

"...Introverts?"

"Oh."

I smiled.

"Another word from my world. It describes someone who..."

I thought for a moment.

"...Enjoys people. But, they recharge by being alone."

Yao's eyes brightened.

"...There is a word for that?"

"There is."

One of the scholars immediately wrote it down.

"...Introvert."

He sounded the syllables out carefully.

"...A useful word."

I pointed at him.

"I had a feeling you'd say that."

He smiled.

"I collect useful words."

The laughter gradually faded.

Then...

I grew quiet again.

"There are days..."

I admitted.

"...Where I want absolutely nothing to do with anyone. I'll disappear into the woods. Go hunting. Read. Write. Think. Just exist."

I looked down at my hands.

"And then, the next day, I'll spend twelve hours helping somebody build something. Or teaching them. Or fixing whatever broke."

I looked back at the council.

"I honestly don't know why. I've never figured it out. I just..."

I smiled softly.

"...Like seeing people smile."

Silence.

Real silence.

Not because nobody knew what to say.

Because...

Nobody wanted to interrupt.

"I don't really care if history remembers my name."

I continued quietly.

"I'd rather somebody look at something they built, smile, and think, 'I'm glad someone taught me how to do this.'"

I shrugged.

"That's enough for me."

The chamber remained still.

Finally...

Thalion smiled.

Not triumphantly.

Not knowingly.

Warmly.

"...Alex."

He said softly.

"I believe..."

He rested both hands upon the table.

"...You mistake complexity for contradiction."

I frowned.

"...I do?"

He nodded once.

"You believe these qualities oppose one another. You enjoy solitude. You enjoy companionship. You seek knowledge. You share knowledge. You value peace. You defend others."

He smiled.

"...None of these are contradictions."

I blinked.

"They aren't?"

Jian answered gently.

"They are balance."

Yao nodded in agreement.

"A tree requires both roots, and branches."

One of the older scholars quietly closed his journal.

"A scholar must first spend time alone..."

He smiled.

"...Before he has anything worth teaching."

Shen, without taking his eyes off the slate, murmured,

"And a mathematician requires silence. Otherwise people keep interrupting him."

The room burst into laughter.

Even I couldn't help joining in.

For the first time...

I wondered if perhaps I'd been looking at myself the wrong way all along.
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A/N: And done. kuwebby2, what do you think?