The forest felt quieter after the clash, though the silence was uneasy, stretched thin like a bowstring ready to snap. The group stood among the scattered remnants of battle — scorched soil where Rael's flames had struck, deep gouges carved by Herbert's elemental force, and faint trails of shadow where the strange, elf-like foes had retreated.
The dyraid's breath came heavy, her once-bright aura dulled by exhaustion. Yet she stood tall, her eyes still carrying the calm dignity of one bound to the forest. In her arms rested the child — a young elf with hair pale as moonlight and eyes of striking green, flecked with golden shimmer. For a fleeting moment, those eyes caught the firelight and seemed almost otherworldly in their beauty.
Alice stepped forward, her voice softer now, tinged with curiosity and unease.
"Master… why would those creatures try to harm a child of the forest? Aren't they supposed to protect these woods?"
Herbert's brows furrowed. His gaze lingered on the retreating shadows before he answered, voice low and rough.
"They looked like elves, but… something is not right with them. Their eyes burn with a phantom light — not of kin, not of the forest. Something vicious has touched them."
The dyraid nodded, speaking at last, her voice like the rustle of leaves stirred by a sorrowful wind.
"For eight years now, such beings have prowled the edges of these woods. They hunt the children of the forest — the elves — though none can say why, nor what they do with those they capture. This child… she was not alone. She and her kin wandered too close to where the shadows gather. I came upon her fleeing. I did what I could."
Her arms tightened around the girl, a tired sigh escaping her lips. "But the forest grows darker each year. My strength is not endless."
The weight of her words pressed against them all, the silence carrying more than the battle had. Darren's fists clenched at his sides, jaw taut with anger. Lyra lowered her twin blades, her gaze fixed on the girl, then on Rael, eyes filled with quiet conflict.
Rael broke the silence, his voice firm, steady — carrying the edge of decision.
"Then we'll see her safely to her kin. If these woods are no longer safe, the elves' village is where she must be returned."
Herbert rested his staff against his shoulder, eyes narrowing, his tone cutting through the clearing like steel against flint.
"You truly mean to take her to her kin? Hmph… then steel yourself. Elves are not in the habit of welcoming outsiders. Their villages are hidden, their hearts guarded tighter still. Many have lost their way simply trying to reach their gates."
Rael met his gaze without hesitation.
"Then we'll go where we must. If she belongs to them, that is where she will be safe."
For a heartbeat, silence weighed heavy between them. Then Herbert's voice returned, harder, sharper — like tempered iron forged in flame:
"Then let no falter stain your steps. A man who breaks his word shatters more than trust — he shatters himself."
The words lingered, settling over them like an oath.
Alice lowered her staff, resolve steadying in her expression. Darren nodded once, silent but firm. Lyra's hands tightened on her blades, her stare fixed on Rael, unreadable yet certain she would follow where he led.
The dyraid's gaze softened. She inclined her head to Rael, gratitude and fatigue mingling in her eyes. "Then perhaps… the forest has not abandoned its children after all."
And so, beneath the quiet canopy of ancient trees, the course of their journey bent toward the hidden heart of the elves — a path few had ever taken, and fewer still had returned from.