"Why are we going back to Mt. Apo?" Callum asked, frowning as he adjusted the seatbelt. He glanced sideways at Alex, who was behind the wheel of the dusty 4x4 pickup truck barreling up the winding mountain road. "I thought we already cleared this mountain of all those goblin-looking things."
It was the third time he'd asked that question in twenty minutes.
From the back seat, Trisha let out an exasperated sigh and leaned forward between them. "I told you—I have to confirm something."
Alex groaned, one hand gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. "Just tell him the truth so he'll stop asking. I'm starting to regret not putting noise-canceling runes in this truck."
"I mean, according to my sentient's map," Callum persisted, pulling up a glowing interface with a casual flick of his wrist, "there's no dark energy left in this area. We already confirmed that before we descended the mountain, remember?"
"And yet," Alex said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "here we are. Again. Headed for another scenic detour courtesy of our resident ninja princess."
"Don't tell me this is another treasure hunt," Callum said, raising an eyebrow at Trisha. "Because honestly, I'd rather not dig through any more monster leftovers hoping to find ancient loot that smells like feet."
"We already made plans to fly to Cebu," Alex added. "That's where the biggest dark energy source is located—confirmed by all our sentients. You do remember that, right?"
Trisha hesitated.
Alex glanced at her through the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"
"Okay, fine," she finally admitted. "The truth is—I want to go to the mossy forest."
"You what?" Callum spun halfway in his seat to face her. "We've been to the mossy forest multiple times. What's the point? Are we doing a photoshoot this time? Should I bring a picnic basket?"
"Not that mossy forest," Trisha said with a roll of her eyes. "There's another one. Bigger. Denser. More... mysterious. It's on the other side of the mountain. You probably missed it while flying around like some mythical birdman."
"I scouted that whole mountain range," Alex interjected. "There was no sign of lingering dark energy, nothing like the corrupted creatures we've faced. It's clean."
"I know. It's not like the evil energy from the old-world monsters," Trisha explained. "But when I asked my sentient to scan the area again, it said there's... something. Not dark, not evil. Just... ancient."
"That's not vague at all," Callum muttered. "Might as well chase fog and whispering trees."
Trisha leaned back in her seat, arms folded but eyes shining with quiet determination. "Look, I went there once before, way before I awakened. I didn't know what I was feeling back then, just that the place didn't feel right or normal. But now that I'm awakened, I think we might be able to find something valuable."
"So we are going on another treasure-hunting adventure," Callum said, his voice tinged with mock triumph. "Admit it. You've got the itch for ancient artifacts."
"Okay, yes, that thought may have crossed my mind," Trisha said, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. "I mean, come on—after what we found in that last cave, who knows what we might find next?"
Alex groaned again. "You promised Cebu."
"I still promise Cebu," Trisha said, holding up two fingers like a scout's honor. "Tomorrow. Swear on my stepmother's designer handbag."
Alex gave her a sideways glance. "That bag you burned?"
"Accidentally," Trisha said sweetly.
Callum chuckled. "This better not be another wild goose chase, or a moss-covered one."
"I feel like that joke didn't land," Alex said flatly.
"I don't care," Callum replied. "I'm emotionally invested now."
They lapsed into silence for a few moments as the truck bounced over a pothole, the mountain air growing cooler with each passing kilometer. The thick canopy of trees ahead whispered secrets in the wind, casting shifting shadows on the dirt road that narrowed the higher they climbed.
"You really think there's something there?" Alex finally asked, voice softer this time.
"I do," Trisha said. "I don't know what exactly, but something is waiting for us."
Alex gave a slow nod. "Alright. We'll check it out, but this is the last one, okay?"
"Last mountain detour," Trisha confirmed.
Callum sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'm in too. But if this turns out to be another stinky cave full of half-digested human bones, I'm blaming both of you."
"We'll put that on your tombstone," Alex said dryly. "'Here lies Callum—died of disappointment and moss exposure.'"
Trisha laughed. "With a commemorative statue of him holding a rock labeled 'not treasure.'"
Callum snorted. "Just make sure my statue looks heroic, like a mid-air pose, maybe holding a flaming sword."
"You don't even use a sword," Alex muttered.
"Details."
*********
Somewhere in the mountain
"Father, did you feel it?" asked a petite young woman with silver-blonde hair and pointed ears. Her voice trembled with excitement and something else—concern, perhaps. She stood still as a stone beneath the shade of an ancient tree, her eyes locked on the forest canopy above.
"Yes," her father replied, his voice steady, low, and tinged with centuries of weariness. "They're coming. They're near."
Malik was tall, slim, and graceful in a way that made him look like the forest itself had shaped him. His deep green eyes shimmered under the filtered light like sunlight reflecting off moss. His cloak, made of woven leaves and enchanted bark, rustled softly as a breeze slipped through the trees.
"Why did they come back?" Layla asked, her brows drawn into a worried frown. "Do you think they found us?"
Malik turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. Or maybe they're just curious. But it makes no difference now. We must prepare. We can't allow our village to be exposed to any human, even the evolved ones."
Layla's eyes softened, pleading. "But Father… they're not evil. They destroyed the goblin tribes—the ones who've haunted this mountain for centuries. They succeeded in a few days what we failed to do in millennia."
Malik's jaw tightened. "It's not that simple, Layla."
He turned away from her, his gaze fixed on the path through the woods—the very path that led to the edge of their illusion-shrouded sanctuary.
"Yes, they've rid us of our enemies," he said, his voice heavy. "But that doesn't make them friends. They're still humans. And we… we are elves. We've hidden in these mountains for thousands of years for a reason. That reason burns forests for roads and cuts down trees for coin."
Layla's shoulders slumped for a moment. Her father's words, however harsh, weren't unfamiliar. She had heard them many times. From the elders. From the guards. Even from her own lips, once.
"But what if these ones are different?" she said quietly. "What if they can help us?"
Malik turned and studied his daughter with eyes that had seen kingdoms rise and fall. Layla was still young—barely a few hundred years old, a child by their standards. Born within the Dome, she hadn't known the old world as he had. She hadn't danced beneath the stars of the free sky or walked the golden fields of the elven highlands.
She hadn't watched it all vanish in fire and ash.
Still, she was not like the other young elves in the village. Power pulsed in her veins—rare, old magic awakened. A gift that had nearly faded from their kind. She was something more.
And she was fascinated by the strangers.
"You want to meet him, don't you?" Malik asked, raising an eyebrow.
Layla stiffened. "What? Who?"
Malik's silence was answer enough.
"Oh," she said, her cheeks flushing a soft rose. "You mean the one who wields the elements… and talks to animals?"
"The druid," Malik said grimly. "Yes, that one."
Layla hesitated, then looked away, embarrassed. "I just—he's different. I can feel it. He doesn't move like the others. He doesn't fight like them either. He uses elemental magic. He shapeshifts. He… belongs here, almost."
"Yes," Malik admitted slowly. "He is a druid, and the other boy—a ranger. That much is clear."
He paused, then added, "They mimic our ways, yes, but don't mistake that for kinship. They are not of us."
Layla met her father's gaze, defiant but not disrespectful. "I know. But they are awakened. And the way they fought those monsters… I've never seen anyone move like that except in the songs of our ancestors. They didn't do it for glory. They weren't here to conquer. They did it because someone had to."
"And yet," Malik said coolly, "you forget. It's not their land. It's not their fight."
Layla looked down, quiet again. Her fingers played absently with a vine bracelet on her wrist.
"I just thought…" she whispered, "maybe we don't have to fight alone anymore."
A long silence fell between them, broken only by the wind sighing through the ancient leaves.
Malik stepped forward and placed a hand gently on his daughter's shoulder.
"Layla," he said softly, "your heart is pure. I do not fault you for that. But the survival of our people doesn't rest on hope. It rests on caution."
She nodded slowly.
"But," Malik added, "we'll keep our eyes open. If they come too close, we will know. If they pose a threat, we will stop them. And if… if they prove worthy—truly worthy—then maybe…"
Layla looked up, hope blooming like a flower in spring.
"Let's observe them first," Malik said firmly.
"Yes, Father," she said, the corners of her lips curling upward. "I understand."
"Good," Malik said. "Come. We have wards to reinforce."
As they turned away, deeper into the shadows of the forest, the trees closed behind them like curtains on a stage. The elven village remained hidden, cloaked in illusions, in runes, and in memories of a world long gone.