Scene 1: The Black Kingdom's Mission
The Black Kingdom stood like a shadow upon the land, its massive obsidian walls jagged as if carved from darkness itself. Veins of white marble laced through the black stone like cracks in reality, reflecting torchlight in a cold gleam. Towers loomed above a heavy sky, where not even birds dared fly.
At the rear of the royal palace, behind an iron gate flanked by two silent armored guards, four hooded figures approached. Their black robes blended into the midnight tone of the structure. One guard stepped forward, raising a hand. His full helmet bore no markings, just a smooth, metallic sheen that seemed almost inhuman.
The tallest of the group revealed a silver ornament marked with an adventurer's crest, unique in its twisted spiral and moon-shaped gem. The guard nodded, stepping aside without a word.
The quartet entered.
Inside, the air grew heavier. The marble corridors were spacious, yet carried a suffocating silence. Shadows clung to corners like whispers of secrets unspoken. Black walls gleamed with magical lighting embedded at regular intervals, soft white glows that never truly drove away the gloom.
They were led through a side mansion connected to the palace by stone bridges. A butler, gaunt and perfectly postured, stood waiting outside a polished door. He bowed briefly and opened it. The four adventurers stepped inside and were left alone.
The room bore the scent of dried ink and old books. Dark wood shelves lined one wall, while thick red curtains covered the tall windows. Behind a desk sat Malzahar, the Black King. His black robe was refined, accented in thin silver thread. His expression was serene, and his black eyes glimmered as if amused. A porcelain cup of tea sat steaming in his hand, untouched.
He smiled.
"Ah. Our brave adventurers. Please, take your time."
The four lowered their hoods.
The leader was Gareth, a tall man with a solid build, greatsword strapped across his back. His brown hair was short, his sharp eyes constantly evaluating. Beside him stood Sir Aldric, the tanker, fully armored in steel-gray plate, helm removed to reveal a tired but stoic face.
Behind them stood two women. Celestine, the healer, carried a golden staff etched with white runes. Her soft green eyes scanned the room in practiced calm. Her braided red hair shimmered under the light. The last was Akira, the archer. She leaned back slightly, arms crossed. Her short dark blue hair matched her cloak, and her slim frame carried a hunter's grace.
"We received your request," Gareth said, tone firm. "It mentioned reconnaissance in southern Etheria. It seems... generously compensated."
Malzahar gave a gentle smile. "I believe in rewarding effort, especially when knowledge is at stake."
"What kind of knowledge?" Gareth asked.
The king swirled his tea without drinking it. "Resources. Rare herbs. Magical flora. Perhaps unusual mana anomalies. Southern Etheria is lush, wild. We suspect certain plants can enhance advanced potions... perhaps even Hi-potions."
"Why not send your own scouts?"
"A kingdom's attention draws attention. Adventurers are... less suspicious."
Gareth frowned. "And the risk?"
"Minimal," Malzahar lied smoothly. "A peaceful forest, at worst wild creatures. No conflict expected."
Celestine and Akira exchanged glances. Aldric's arms folded with a slight creak of his armor.
Gareth held his stare. "We'll take it. But we'll report everything. No omissions."
"Of course," Malzahar said, and finally sipped his tea. "Do enjoy your exploration."
As the four left the room, the king's expression hardened.
Fools.
Let them wander. Let them trigger what waits. Let them bleed the forest dry, and bring me back what matters.
Outside the capital, the city gates shimmered under noon sun. Gareth unfolded a map beside the path. The obsidian city behind him gleamed under daylight, less menacing but still unnatural.
"Water," Sir Aldric muttered. "I need water. Been standing in armor all day."
Celestine gave a short sigh and playfully bopped his head with her staff. "It's noon. You'll survive. Barely."
Akira leaned back on a boulder. "We'll need to prep meals. Can't survive on jerky."
"Not with Aldric's stomach," Celestine added.
"Har har," Aldric grunted. "I fight monsters. Not starvation."
Their laughter drifted over the plains as they packed supplies, unaware of what truly awaited in Etheria's southern shadows.
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Scene 2: Southern Etheria, The Watch
Etheria's southern forest shimmered beneath golden beams of filtered sunlight, breaking through the dense canopy above like celestial fingers. Towering ancient trees, their bark gnarled with age and wisdom, reached toward the sky in solemn silence. Thick vines draped between trunks like nature's bridges, swaying gently with every passing breeze. The undergrowth was soft with moss, dappled in shadow and light. Birdsong filled the air in scattered harmony, chirps, trills, and calls echoing like a living melody. Leaves rustled in a quiet symphony, fluttering downward like emerald confetti, each whisper a secret of the forest's timeless peace.
Atop a wide-branched tree stood Erestor, eyes barely open, posture slouched. His moss-colored cloak drooped off his shoulders. He yawned, arms stretched wide, almost dropping his bow.
"Still no humans?" he grumbled.
From the forest floor, Legolas replied. Clad in silver-etched leather armor, his brown hair tied behind his head, the swordsman looked up with mild amusement. "You say that every hour."
"Because every hour feels like three," Erestor groaned. "Why do we even watch this path? Birds have more sense than humans to walk through this place."
"Orders," Legolas said simply. "And duty."
Erestor dropped from the tree, landing with a wobbly stumble. He straightened up and muttered, "Three days. Three nights. I'm practically tree bark now."
"You volunteered for high watch."
"I thought there'd be birds to talk to. Or squirrels. Maybe a nymph."
A graceful voice interrupted them.
"You're not done yet, Erestor."
They turned to see Elaria approaching. She moved with poise, her violet cloak billowing behind her. Her silver bow was slung across her back, long hair tied in an elegant braid. Her presence made even the trees seem to bow.
"Elariaaa~!" Erestor cried. "So it's finally my shift end? Please say yes."
She smiled. "I'm just passing by. The river's shortest route is this way."
Erestor's face crumbled. "I've been standing up there for eternity. Now even illusions visit me."
Legolas chuckled. "Maybe you're waiting up that tree to peek at girls bathing."
Erestor puffed up. "Hey! That's slander! I would never... okay, maybe once. But I wasn't peeking, I was assessing potential ambush points!"
"The only thing ambushing you is boredom," Legolas said dryly.
Elaria crossed her arms. "For the record, we don't bathe in the river."
Erestor blinked. "You don't?"
"It's the men. They go there."
There was a silence. Then...
Erestor's eyes widened. His lips twitched. "Wait... so for three days... I was guarding naked men?"
Legolas burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "All that effort, watching your own kin bathe!"
"I... I need a moment," Erestor stammered, staring into the distance. "My pride... it's broken. Like a twig."
Elaria gave a wave. "Enjoy the realization."
She vanished between the trees, her violet cloak trailing behind like a fading ribbon of color against the green. In a few silent steps, she melded with the forest, her graceful form swallowed by shadow and foliage, until only the swaying branches hinted she had ever passed through.
" . . . . . . . . "
After a long silence, Erestor finally turned to Legolas. "You think she went to the river to peek at guys?"
Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Possible."
They both stared in the direction of the river, faces frozen in deep, silent contemplation. A single leaf twirled lazily through the air and landed between them like nature itself dropping a punchline. Neither moved. Neither blinked. The wind shifted.
Erestor finally whispered, "We've seen too much."
Legolas nodded solemnly. "And yet... not enough."
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