The portal closed, and Null stood in Silverwood, home of the elves.
The air itself felt different here—thicker, humming with a gentle, life-giving energy that smelled of unknown blossoms and clean earth. It was a stark contrast to the sharp, sterile void of his own magic.
A city built in symbiosis with nature sprawled before him. Towers of white marble spiraled up the trunks of colossal, living trees. Bridges were woven from branches that still bore silver leaves, and grand buildings rose from the city floor, each an elegant fusion of wood and stone.
Above it all, a single, gigantic tree reached past the clouds into the golden haze of the sky, its sheer scale a testament to a power that dwarfed even the tallest mountains.
"Welcome to Silverwood, Prince Null," Aria said. Her voice had shed the layer of respectful deference it held in the dragon kingdom, leaving behind something more extraordinary and more brittle.
As they walked, Null observed the city's lifeblood. He saw elven children playing a game with harmless, floating light constructs, shaping them into shimmering foxes and radiant birds that chased each other through the air with silent laughter.
Further on, he passed an elderly elf meditating in a small park. The flowers and vines around him were slowly blooming and retracting in time with his breathing, as if the world itself were inhaling and exhaling along with him. Their society was a marvel of harmony.
This harmony was broken as a pair of elven nobles stepped into their path. They didn't speak. They gave Null a slow, deliberate look of utter disdain before gliding away.
He found it amusing. In a way, they were the closest things to dragons—a species woven so deeply into the fabric of nature that they believed it belonged to them. He found it funny that their perfect, sheltered society bred such profound arrogance, and that their look of "I'm better than you" was a perfect mirror of his own thoughts toward them.
"Is there anything I should know before we get to the place?" Null asked.
"No."
The single word was sharp and final.
They soon reached the foot of the Great Tree. Being this close, Null could feel the immense river of ether flowing from it, fueling the entire kingdom. He knew that everything with a beginning has an end. When this tree dies, this whole civilization will die with it.
Aria's voice broke his thoughts. "This is where I depart. As soon as you walk in, you will be teleported to the gathering room. You're the last to arrive."
Null stepped through the entrance and reappeared in a vast, circular room inside the tree's core. The low hum of conversation died instantly. All twenty pairs of eyes—some curious, some hostile, some coldly analytical—locked onto him. It was a wave of collective pressure that would have crushed a normal person.
Null didn't flinch. He walked forward with a calm, deliberate pace and took the only empty seat.
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken challenges. He used it to analyze the competition. His gaze stopped on a boy with broad shoulders who projected a restless, challenging energy. But his eyes weren't wild; they were sharp and intensely focused. The warrior archetype, Null thought. He uses the threat of physical violence as a mask for a calculating mind.
Then his eyes shifted to a girl sitting perfectly still in the shadows. Her composure was absolute, her expression a faint, knowing smile. The observer, he categorized, or the puppeteer—the type to watch the game from the shadows.
A haughty voice finally broke the tense silence.
"You have no right to speak to me that way," a thin boy with pointed features hissed. "My family's lineage is unbroken since the First Age."
The broader boy he spoke to sneered. "Lineage means nothing if you have the strength of a frightened rabbit. Don't mistake your ancestor's power for your own."
Stung by the insult, the thin boy's face flushed. "Strength? My father says my control over ether already surpasses his. It's only a matter of time before I'm considered for a Nexus seat myself!"
The broader boy scoffed, his voice dripping with condescension. "Being 'considered' is what they tell the insignificant. My mother is already training me to replace a Nexus. There's a difference between hoping for a seat and having one reserved."
Suddenly, the ambient light in the room brightened. A young elf rose with unhurried grace and moved to the center of the circle. His posture was relaxed, yet the entire room fell utterly silent, the argument instantly forgotten. His quiet presence commanded more authority than any king's decree. This, Null deduced, must be their host.
He smiled warmly. "Welcome, thank you all for coming," he said. "Some might be wondering why I wanted this gathering, and the reason is simple. We are the strongest kids our age. We are the future, so I think we should naturally get along, meet new people, and make friends."
Null watched him, unimpressed. Though he was in the body of a five-year-old, he wasn't dumb enough to believe for a second that anyone in this room, least of all the host, was here to make friends.
Null's lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. Let the games begin.