The following morning, as the sun slowly revealed itself from behind Mount Levuskan, its golden light partially veiled by clusters of altocumulus clouds in the blue sky, the hunting party led by Isac Galeon continued their journey by entering the Elven Forest. They rode their horses in orderly formation, making their way through the dense forest filled with towering evergreen trees.

  The silence within the Elven Forest carried an elegant serenity, enhancing the mystical aura along their path. A group of butterflies fluttered not far from the hunters’ formation, emitting a bright blue glow with every beat of their wings, accompanying the steady rhythm of hooves breaking the stillness. Nearby, several forest rabbits with silvery-white fur darted around the roots of the evergreen trees where they made their nests.

  Sunlight seemed unable to penetrate the thick needle-like foliage of the evergreens.

  Suddenly, the hunting knights sensed the presence of a white stag with glowing antlers etched in runic patterns, peering at them from behind a tree trunk. Reacting swiftly, Lula raised her bow and aimed at the creature, preparing to release an arrow—but Isac stopped her.

  “Don’t, Lula,” Isac said firmly, halting her movement.

  “Look around you.”

  Hearing this, Lula lowered her bow and scanned the forest. There, perched on a tree branch about twenty meters away, stood a young man with golden-white hair and pointed ears. He wore a brown cloak and held a spear, watching them intently.

  “Is that an Elf?” Lula asked.

  “Yes, that’s an Elf,” Lothar replied.

  “He looks like he’s patrolling this area,” Breum added.

  Moments later, the young Elf leapt down from the tree and landed directly before them.

  “What are humans doing here?” he asked coldly.

  At that, Hersir Isac Galeon dismounted his horse and addressed the Elf respectfully.

  “Forgive us, people of the Elf race. We seek to continue our journey toward Mount Levuskan, where the Cursed Dragon dwells. One of our companions is gravely injured and requires treatment. We humbly ask for passage through your lands while we tend to his wounds,” Isac explained.

  “There is no place for humans in our territory. Leave at once,” the Elf replied, gripping his spear tightly.

  The knights instinctively reached for their swords, but Isac raised his hand, signaling them to stop.

  “Please forgive us,” Isac continued calmly. “We ask for leniency so that we may pass through your domain.”

  Suddenly, another Elf emerged from the bushes. Taller in stature, he wore a black cloak and carried a sword at his right side. He rode a silver stag whose antlers glowed with light. Stopping behind the first Elf, he dismounted and whispered something into his ear.

  After a long whisper, the newly arrived Elf stepped forward and bowed politely.

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  “Greetings, humans,” he said.

  “Greetings,” Isac replied.

  “My name is Svander. I am a messenger of the Great Elder of the Elves. I have come to welcome you.”

  Hearing this, Isac introduced himself and explained their mission.

  “My name is Isac Galeon, a knight of Division One of the Kingdom of Normandia. We are tasked with retrieving VORNAHURD from the Cursed Dragon on Mount Levuskan. We ask permission to enter Elven territory to treat our injured companion.”

  “Very well,” Svander replied. “By decree of the Great Elder Feyrendr, you are permitted to enter our lands while caring for your wounded comrade.”

  Together, they traveled deeper into the forest toward the heart of the Elven settlement. Along the way, conversation flowed.

  “My name is Belinor,” said the Elf with the spear. “I am part of the Elven security force, assigned to patrol this area.”

  “I am Igor. This is Breum, Lothar, Lula—the archer—and Elisabeth, our guide,” Igor introduced.

  “How did your companion get injured?” Belinor asked.

  “In Pisvor Valley, we were ambushed by Andradile. Our carriage and supplies were destroyed,” Thauvin explained.

  “Andradile… a fearsome creature tasked with guarding Pisvor Valley,” Belinor said solemnly.

  “Our comrade Ragan sacrificed himself to face the monster alone, giving us a chance to live,” Thauvin added.

  “Is he still alive?” Belinor asked softly.

  Thauvin remained silent and shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” Belinor said gently. “Do not forget his sacrifice. He is a legend.”

  “Yes… he is,” Thauvin replied.

  After a long ride, the Elven settlement came into view. Mushroom-shaped houses with brightly colored roofs glowed warmly, while others were built into evergreen trees or topped with earthen-brown pointed roofs.

  The settlement felt welcoming. Elves sang and played violins crafted from ancient oak wood. Some female Elves tended to injured animals—deer and rabbits—binding their wounds with evergreen bark.

  As the knights entered, they were warmly greeted.

  “Welcome, humans, to our home,” said an elderly Elf in a faded red robe.

  “My name is Ulrion, a messenger of the Great Elder. We have been expecting you.”

  The knights dismounted and were each given an evergreen leaf—a traditional symbol of welcome. They were led to sit before a large mushroom-shaped house.

  After some time, an elderly Elf emerged, wearing a moss-green robe and leaning on a wooden staff adorned with roots at one end and a coiled trunk design at the other. A sapphire gem embedded in the staff glowed with a bluish-purple light. His aura was overwhelming, causing the knights’ hairs to stand on end.

  “Good day, children of humanity,” he said kindly. “I am Aesvariel, the Great Elder and guardian of Mother Earth.”

  The knights bowed nervously.

  “I have long awaited your arrival,” Aesvariel continued. “I understand your plight.”

  Isac stepped forward.

  “Forgive us, Great Elder. We seek refuge while we heal our injured companion. We ask for your permission, despite the ancient treaty between our peoples.”

  After observing the gathered Elves, Aesvariel spoke.

  “Very well. Due to your hardship, I will grant you leniency. But on one condition—you must obey our laws and help care for the plants and animals here.”

  “We understand and accept,” Isac replied.

  They carried Matias to a pointed-roof house, where an Elf healer named Sveanna began her work. Chanting a spell, she healed Matias instantly.

  “Amazing…” Sasa whispered.

  “My thanks!” Matias said joyfully.

  “I am Sveanna, a healer Elf. We draw power from Mother Earth,” she explained.

  As introductions continued, Sveanna spoke of robes, ranks, and the Great Elder’s ability to open spirit portals. She also revealed that Madam Mad Er had once studied there decades ago.

  “That means our meeting was destined,” Sveanna said warmly to Elisabeth.

  Elisabeth smiled softly, sensing that fate had indeed guided her steps.