"How do we enter? Is there a password?" Callum asked, standing with arms crossed in front of the giant tree. He squinted suspiciously at its bark, as if it might blink back at him.
The towering trunk stood motionless, silent as a stone guardian.
Trisha stepped forward confidently. "Let me try. Aperta Sesamae!" she declared with a dramatic flourish, thrusting her hand toward the tree like a wizard in a fantasy movie.
Nothing happened. Not even a creak.
Callum blinked. "Did you just say 'Open Sesame' in fake Latin?"
"Nice try, Alibebe," Alex said, snorting. "Did you just Google that?"
Trisha shot him a glare that could peel bark off a tree. "Okay, hotshot. Your turn. Let's see what you got."
Alex walked forward with a very calm expression that screamed fake confidence. He placed both palms flat against the ancient bark, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly—as if he were in complete control of the situation.
In reality, he had no clue what he was doing.
Leyla didn't leave instructions. Not even a note. What kind of magical civilization forgets to hand out guest passes? he thought bitterly. Still, he kept his eyes shut and whispered inwardly. Hey tree, it's me. Your friendly neighborhood Druid. I come in peace. Please don't make me look like an idiot.
The air suddenly shifted. A breeze swept past them, then another in the opposite direction, this one warmer. The temperature flipped back and forth—cool, hot, cold, then neutral—like the forest itself was sniffing them for permission.
Thick fog rolled in from every direction, surrounding the three of them in a swirling vortex of silvery white. They couldn't see their hands in front of their faces.
"I swear if this is a teleportation trap—" Callum muttered nervously.
Before he could finish, the mist began to fade just as quickly as it arrived.
When it cleared, they were no longer in the mossy forest. The entire landscape had shifted. Gone were the tangled roots, the moss-covered branches, the jungle humidity. Instead, a glowing village lay before them, basking in warm, ambient light that seemed to come from the very trees themselves.
Elegant structures of wood and stone spiraled out of the landscape as if they'd grown that way. Bridges of woven vines arched over crystal streams. Strange but beautiful creatures fluttered in the air—some like butterflies, others like glowing feathers drifting on wind.
The enchanted elven village.
Alex stepped forward smugly, hands on hips like he'd just cracked the code to Narnia. "See? Told you only the worthy can open it."
Trisha stomped past him without breaking stride. "Show-off," she grumbled, though her eyes were darting around in wonder.
Callum was still blinking in disbelief. "Okay, I take back everything I said. This place is freaking majestic."
"Welcome to fairyland," Alex said, motioning for them to follow as he walked down a path lined with glowing stones.
"Correction," Trisha whispered under her breath. "Welcome to the place where my eyeliner will finally be outclassed."
As they entered the village proper, several elves took notice. Whispers spread quickly, their melodic voices floating like wind chimes. Some looked wary, others curious. A few even nodded respectfully at Alex—though one small elf child pointed at Callum and asked something in a language none of them understood.
"I think she just called me a walking turnip," Callum said.
Trisha giggled. "You do have a turnip look sometimes."
"Wow, thank you. That means so much coming from a dramatic assassin."
A familiar voice called out from one of the balconies above. "So you made it back."
They all looked up to see Leyla standing tall, arms crossed, her silver-blond hair catching the light like threads of moonlight.
"I wasn't sure you'd find the entrance," she said, descending the spiral staircase carved into a massive tree trunk.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, thanks for the detailed instructions by the way. Next time, maybe leave a trail of breadcrumbs or a magic scroll."
Leyla smiled faintly. "Where would be the fun in that?"
She walked up to them, eyes quickly scanning Trisha and Callum with polite interest. "You are now standing in the heart of Elarion—the last elven city inside the dome."
Leyla offered a bow, tapping a closed fist to her chest. "Welcome, allies."
Trisha tilted her head. "Are all elves this formal?"
"No," Leyla said, smiling. "Only the old ones."
They began walking together through the village as Leyla led them toward the Council Hall, the central meeting area built into a centuries-old tree whose trunk was wider than a house.
"Do we get drinks in this tour?" Callum asked, looking around. "Elven wine, perhaps? Or enchanted fruit juice?"
"Or a truth serum?" Trisha asked pointedly, glancing at Leyla.
"I promise," Leyla said calmly, "no one will force you to drink anything… unless you insult our tree again."
"Wait, what?" Callum blinked.
"Kidding," she said, not quite convincingly.
As they reached the great tree, the heavy wooden doors opened on their own, revealing a circular chamber with vines hanging from the ceiling and soft moss carpeting the floor. Dozens of elven scrolls and relics adorned the walls.
"This is where we talk," Leyla said. "About the mission… the beast… and the reward."
"Finally," Trisha said. "Let's get to the part where we fight something ancient and terrifying."
"And get paid," Callum added.
"Yes, you will get paid," came a commanding voice from behind.
Everyone turned at once—instinctively tense, hands twitching near their weapons—only to find Malik standing tall at the doorway, arms folded, his silver hair gleaming under the ambient light.
"Father!" Leyla blurted. "Why are you always walking in unannounced?"
Malik raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "Well, it's my village. I can come and go wherever—and whenever—I want."
Leyla narrowed her eyes. "That's not true. You're not like that."
Malik gave her a sly smile. "But I can be, if I want to." He turned to the others, his demeanor straightening. "Enough of that. Introduce me properly now."
Leyla exhaled and gave a short, formal bow. "This is my father, Malik—chief of our village and leader of the elven council."
Alex, Trisha, and Callum stood in silent acknowledgment, eyes on the elder elf. Despite his casual words, there was a force of presence in Malik that couldn't be ignored. He was both warrior and king, and he made the air in the room feel slightly heavier just by being in it.
Leyla gestured to the group. "Father, these are the Druid's companions."
Callum stepped forward first, bowing slightly. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. I'm Callum, a ranger. If the stories are accurate, most elves are also rangers, aren't they?"
Malik's eyes crinkled slightly. "You're not entirely wrong. Most of our people prefer the bow and arrow—it's an ancient tradition. But we don't call them rangers. That's a human term."
He turned to Trisha. "And aside from swordsman like me, some of us prefer the dagger as well. Like you, young lady."
Trisha gave an awkward but respectful nod. "Forgive me, I'm Trisha. My class is Assassin, but I don't kill indiscriminately. I mean, I don't go around stabbing innocent people." She paused. "Wait—are there assassins in your village too?"
Malik chuckled. "Not by your definition. Elves do value the dagger as a weapon—fast, clean, efficient. But we are not assassins by nature. We strike only when the cause is just."
"Same," Trisha replied quickly, standing a little straighter. "Justice first. Murder second."
Malik smirked faintly at that.
Alex stepped in. "Speaking of weapons," he said, casually tapping his ring, "You mentioned earlier that you're a sword user. I was wondering... is there any chance I could get a very small advance on our reward?"
Malik's brow arched. "An advance? You haven't even started the mission yet, and you're already negotiating rewards?"
Alex raised both hands in mock defense. "Not a reward exactly—more of a… preparation tool. A few sword skills, maybe? A technique or two? It's for the mission."
Malik stared at him for a beat… then nodded slowly. "Hmm… that actually makes sense."
Alex blinked. "Wait. What? You agree?"
Malik nodded again, more firmly this time. "Yes. You wield a sword. It's only logical that your chances of success improve with proper skill. That benefits us all."
Alex turned to Trisha and Callum, looking almost betrayed. "Did he just—? Did he actually agree? That never works when I ask for stuff!"
Malik lifted a hand to quiet him. "In fact, I'll extend the offer to all three of you. You may each choose one skill or spell from our archives—anything we have that could aid you in the mission. Knowledge is the greatest weapon, and we are not so proud as to withhold it from those risking their lives on our behalf."
Callum's face lit up. "Wait, really? That's… generous."
Trisha raised an eyebrow. "Very un-elflike."
Malik gave her a side glance. "We're not all stingy mystics with trust issues, young assassin."
Leyla cleared her throat, hiding a smile. "Our archives contain thousands of years' worth of elven knowledge—combat skills, elemental manipulation, nature-based magic, ancient runes, even healing techniques. Some are easy to learn, others… not so much."
Callum looked thoughtful. "Do you have anything that makes me fly? I'd love to move like Alex when he's in bird mode."
Trisha chimed in. "Do you have a spell that lets me ignore annoying teammates?"
"You don't need magic for that," Alex said dryly. "You've been doing it since we met."
Malik stepped toward the wall and waved his hand. A panel of woven vines uncurled, revealing a tall crystal console glowing with emerald light.
"This is the Archive's interface. It holds the memory of our ancestors—skills passed down from elder to elder. You may browse it with Leyla's help. Choose wisely."
Leyla approached the crystal and touched its surface. The light flickered, and a soft hum filled the room as glowing elven glyphs began to appear, floating in mid-air like holograms.
"Welcome to the Elven Codex," she said. "Think of it as… our version of a skill tree."
Callum leaned forward in awe. "Mate, this is better than any leveling system I've seen in a game."