As the first rays of sunlight from the distant Damu began to seep slowly over the horizon to the west, casting a faint golden glow over the endless sea of trees in Tharn Forest. Perched on a gentle hill overlooking the forest, the silhouette of Moonlit Citadel came into view.
The citadel's outline was etched sharply against the softening hues of the brightening sky.
Built from rough gray stone quarried from the Monos quarry to the south of Damu, this modest fortress bore the marks of time and weather in full. Dark moss clung to the crevices between the stones, damp with moisture, while morning dew seeped in, dyeing the surfaces a deep, glistening ash-gray.
Without any particular name, simply called "Moonlit Citadel" its walls were not tall but thick and sturdy, accompanied by a high watchtower designed to monitor the orcs and minotaurs of the western wastelands known as the Badlands beyond the forest.
The conical roof of the watchtower at the citadel's center rattled faintly in the blowing wind, its weathered planks worn by years of storms. On either side of the narrow citadel's gate stood iron braziers, but the fires had died out overnight, leaving their surfaces smudged with soot and glistening with condensed droplets.
The air was cold, heavy with the scent of damp fallen leaves and moist bark. Thin mist lazily coiled between the treetops, shrouding the forest in a mystical veil.
The faint chirping of awakening birds and the distant rustling of leaves could be heard.
Above the trees, a shadow stirred. It was a Muwa sentinel returning from an all-night patrol of the forest. The Muwa's broad wings, mottled in shades of brown and gray, sliced through the air silently, embodying the race's characteristic stealth.
The Muwa sentinel skimmed low over the treetops, scanning below with sharp amber eyes, then veered toward the citadel and vanished beyond the walls.
In the dimly misted courtyard of the citadel, as the heavy wooden door creaked open, the outline of an elf with pointed ears gradually emerged from the hazy yard.
She stepped lightly, making her way down the path leading out of the citadel.
Her form stood in stark contrast to the rugged, lichen-crusted walls of weathered gray stone stacked roughly and riddled with cracks.
Her long golden hair shimmered like threads woven from sunlight, cascading over her shoulders and reflecting the faint light of the rising sun heralding the morning.
Her pointed ears peeked slightly through her hair, and her emerald eyes glowed with a quiet intensity.
She was dressed in practical yet refined attire suitable for venturing to the forest's edge. A deep forest-green cloak, edged with subtle silver leaf patterns, featured a high collar that framed her elegantly, beneath which a form-fitting deep indigo tunic was visible.
The tunic was cinched at the waist with a sturdy leather belt, from which hung a small pouch containing parchment and a quill.
She wore dark trousers, tucked neatly into high brown boots caked with mud from long treks through pathless woods.
Her slender hands were gloved in fingerless leather, and in one arm she carried a leather-bound book. The pages were worn and curled at the edges from frequent perusal, and as she walked, the morning breeze lifted her cloak slightly, revealing a glimpse of the dagger strapped to her thigh.
The elf's dagger was slightly longer than ordinary, a practical tool for her woodland journeys—useful for clearing vines, stripping bark, or other minor tasks.
As her steps neared the outer walls of the citadel, the sound of the heavy door opening echoed from behind. Soon, a low, resonant voice called out to her.
"Are you heading to the ruins again today, Tirrellda?"
The elf halted and turned her head to regard the speaker, offering a faint smile.
"Yes, Daroon."
She replied in a clear, melodic voice, infused with warmth.
"There are still sentences I couldn't finish transcribing yesterday."
Daroon approached Tirrellda with purposeful strides.
As the captain of the guard at Moonlit Citadel and a Dawi, he possessed a massive frame, broad shoulders, and muscular build that fully embodied the Dawi's renowned strength and imposing presence, casting a shadow over Tirrellda.
Daroon's fur was a deep, rich black—so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. It was neatly groomed, though frost clung lightly to it from the chill morning air.
He wore heavy armor forged from black steel, its surface intricately engraved with interlocking claw motifs, symbolizing his clan, Baheekhari.
A frayed crimson cloak, worn at the edges from years of use, draped over his shoulders.
In his massive hand, he gripped a halberd, a weapon of intimidating design crafted by Dawi artisans. The haft was thick and reinforced with iron bands, while the head bore an enormous axe blade too large for a human or elf to wield comfortably.
The blade's edge gleamed with razor sharpness, tipped with a protruding spear point, and curved spikes jutted from the back, making it versatile for slashing, thrusting, and piercing. Scaled to his colossal stature, the halberd would crush others under its weight, but in his grasp, it balanced perfectly.
"I'll accompany you."
Daroon said in a gentle tone, slinging the halberd over his shoulder as he fell in step behind Tirrellda.
Tirrellda waved her hand lightly, smiling.
"You needn't trouble yourself, Daroon. I'll be fine on my own."
But Daroon's expression remained steadfast, and soon the two were walking side by side along the narrow trail leading from the citadel into the forest.
Towering cedars lined both sides of the path, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth.
Each of Daroon's heavy footfalls crunched against the ground, his armor clinking faintly with every step.
In contrast, Tirrellda moved with the elves' innate grace, her boots leaving scarcely a trace on the earth.
Daroon carried his halberd slung over his shoulder, its massive axe blade casting a long shadow across the path. Beneath his black fur, his dark eyes ceaselessly scanned the surrounding trees, displaying the vigilant wariness of a seasoned warrior. Tirrellda clutched her leather book to her chest, her fingers stroking the worn cover as she gazed at the forest around her, closing her eyes to draw in a deep breath and savor the morning woodland air as they walked.
Their quiet journey was briefly interrupted by a soft sound from above the trees. A Muwa glided down on widespread wings, landing lightly on a low branch ahead of them. It was Beuboa, the citadel's sentinel who had watched over the forest all night.
Beuboa's feathers were slightly disheveled from the long night's fatigue, and his large, round eyes gleamed softly in the dim light. He clicked his beak lightly and tilted his head to regard the pair.
"I spotted you two on my way back to the citadel."
Beuboa said in a low voice, weariness seeping through.
"I came to offer my greetings. Sila lumen tielbo... Tirrellda."
At Beuboa's words, Tirrellda's face brightened, and she raised a hand in salute.
"Sila lumen tielbo, Beuboa."
She replied in the musical lilt characteristic of elven speech.
Beuboa puffed out his chest, his feathers bristling with pride.
"Sila lumen tielbo~!" He echoed Tirrellda's elven phrase once more, his pronunciation a bit awkward but sincere.
"Ahem! How's that for my Elven, eh~!"
Tirrellda smiled softly, her emerald eyes sparkling with amusement.
"It's excellent, Beuboa. You're improving every day."
Beuboa clicked his beak and fluttered his wings slightly.
"Hmm, compared to your command of Damu speech, I've got a long way to go. My Elven still has titas ahead."
Daroon nodded, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.
"True enough, Tirrellda—you mastered Damu language in less than a season. That's truly remarkable."
Tirrellda's cheeks flushed faintly as she tucked a strand of golden hair behind her pointed ear.
"You're both too kind with your praise."
She said in a modest yet pleased tone. For a scholar like her, compliments on her learning abilities were the most gratifying words.
Beuboa stretched his wings wide, his feathers catching the first sunlight filtering through the branches and shimmering.
"Well, I must return to the citadel before the sun rises fully. Need to catch some sleep before tonight's watch."
Beuboa bowed his head to Daroon and Tirrellda.
"You're heading to the ruins, right? The area around there is slippery from the dawn rain, so be careful."
"I'll do that. Go rest well, Beuboa."
Daroon replied, watching as Beuboa took flight with a flap of wings.
"Take care."
Tirrellda added, waving her hand. Beuboa soared silently upward, vanishing swiftly into the mist toward the citadel.
Daroon and Tirrellda continued along the forest path, enveloped by the sounds of the awakening woods.
More time passed. The sun climbed higher, golden beams piercing through the trees and spilling onto the ground in flowing streams.
Tirrellda glanced at Daroon, eyeing the massive halberd he carried with ease. Feeling the quiet reassurance of his presence, the two ventured deeper into Tharn Forest. The citadel grew distant, eventually fading from their sight.
Before long, the forest grew even quieter, the trees thinning out at a point where a small stream revealed itself. Along its banks, large and small boulders were arranged in a semicircle, their surfaces etched with Vrant runes amid the moss.
The ruins appeared like colossal stone pillars thrusting up from the earth. Some boulders towered well above Daroon's height.
The stones bore carvings of spirals, curves, and symbols resembling leaves and animals, with faint glimmers suggesting remnants of ancient magic.
The stream flowed slowly between the rocks, its murmur like a hushed song to the ear.
Tirrellda took a deep breath and stepped cautiously into the ruins, with Daroon following silently behind, as always.
Entering between the boulders, they felt as though they had stepped into a sacred space. The surrounding bird calls faded, and time itself seemed to slow.
"Could this have been the resting place of the Vrant, once called the shepherds of the forest...?"
Tirrellda whispered. Her eyes wandered among the glowing runes, drawn to one boulder inscribed with sentences that gleamed in the sunlight.