---
Court Hall of the Palace.
Assistant Royal Commander: Commandant. (The attention of the Royal Commandant is drawn to him). We have finally captured her.
The questioning eyes of the Royal Commandant follow the hand of his junior as it points towards the entrance. The ælfen is brought in and made to fall on her knees despite her condition.
Assistant Royal Commander: We have finally captured the Masked Thief, the so-called legendary invincible thief of our realm.
He places the Masked Thief's items on the elegant wooden tiles.
Assistant Royal Commander: Proof.
On further investigation, he searches through the items and aligns them according to the facts he had collected during his pursuit of the invincible thief now knelt before him.
Royal Commandant: You really are the one, after many years of searching.
Elva: (Sneers) What a memory, Commandant.
Royal Commandant: [The Masked Thief is a young lady… how unusual. But her hair color is...] (Shakes head slowly). Take her to the dungeon, where she will remain until the judgment of the Emperor.
Elven-Soldiers: Yes, Commandant!
Elva, unwilling to bear the thought of being chained in a cell until her inevitable execution, roars in fury. Her arms extend, eyes glowing red. Instantly, a thick blast of wind knocks several Elven-Soldiers to the floor. The Royal Commandant forms a barrier in time to protect himself. The massive Energy release, despite her condition, leaves Elva weak. She collapses, and two soldiers rush to seize her.
Royal Commandant: 😳 (Stands). (To a male servant) Alert the Elflord.
Male Servant: I shall do so. (He exits).
Royal Commandant: How did you do that? (Elva stays silent). Speak!
The Elflord enters with his Royal Advisor. All bow before him.
Elflord: What seems the matter? All of you, at ease.
Everyone stands.
Royal Commandant: My Lord, we have another guest.
He steps aside, revealing the young maiden. The Elflord approaches Elva and, with a gesture, orders the soldiers to support her to her feet.
Elflord: (Polite despite his nobility) May I ask who you are, my child?
Elva remains silent.
Royal Commandant: My Lord, this ælfen is the Masked Thief.
Elflord: Her? The Masked Thief?
Royal Commandant: Yes, my Lord.
Royal Advisor: But how can you be certain, aside from her hair color? We've searched for years, and our guesses have always failed.
Royal Commandant: There's only one way left to find out.
Elva: [What are these sticks talking about?]
Elflord: (Glances at Elva) The Dragon's Scale.
As his hand reaches for her left ear, Elva flinches.
Elflord: (Gently) Easy, my child.
Too weak to resist and soothed by his voice, Elva lets him touch the spot. Behold — the Crystal Dragon's Scale lies there. The Elflord pulls it slightly, and Elva reacts; the scale flickers and shocks him. He recoils, nursing his fingers.
Elflord: Ah. (He covers his hurt hand, gazing at Elva in awe). Men, after eighteen years... we have finally found the Red Dragon.
Everyone present gasps. Some Elven-Soldiers are stunned that the top lawbreaker in Edhel-Ambar — their most elusive thief — is also the Red Draga they've been seeking for years.
Without wasting time, the servant ordered earlier quietly slips away.
Elflord: (Grinning) Under the Order of the Therds, bow before the Urulókë.
All but the Elflord bow and form an 'X' across their chests.
---
Elsewhere, in the Garden of the Crown Prince's Bedchamber
The Eldest Imperial Elven Prince, disturbed in his meditation, breaks through his spiritual trance and gasps. After a deep breath, he calms himself.
Male Servant: They have found the Red Draga.
The Crown Prince glances over his shoulder at the servant. His eyes remain unseen to viewers.
---
Palace Court Hall
Elflord: What is your name, my child? [She looks weak.] (To an attendant) Get the Imperial Physician. She's unwell. Didn't you notice that? And yet you allowed a young maiden to be treated so harshly?!
The Elven-Soldiers being scolded try to apologize, but the Elflord speaks over them. Meanwhile, Elva, now freed, takes a deep breath, regaining her energy — and then blacks out.
---
The Elflord of Elfland, despite his title, is a kind, simple, and just ruler. He detests tyranny and strives to govern his land with the wisdom of ancient kings.
---
Hours later, a Royal Bedchamber
Elva opens her eyes and instantly sits up, holding her head.
Elva: Uff… it was just a dream. (She looks around). Wait a minute … Where am I?
Braiden, a maid assigned to Elva, enters.
Braiden: (Gasps, curtsying) My Lady!
Elva looks at her in shock.
Braiden: You've finally awoken.
Elva: Uhmm, sorry, but… who are you?...
Braiden: H...
Elva: Where am I? "Awoken"? Was I dead before?
Braiden tries to speak but is interrupted again.
Elva: Or wait — am I?! Because this place certainly looks like the afterlife.
Braiden: [Please allow me answer your requests one at a time, my lady 😭]
Derlinê, Elva's assigned Lady-in-Waiting, enters.
Derlinê: (Courtesies) It is good to have you here, My Lady.
Elva: (Palm to forehead, grinning) I must be dreaming right now to even think I'm an Eldar.
NOTE: "Eldar" is the Elven word for a member of the Royal Family.
Elva: (Suddenly stops grinning) [Or wait, am I?]
An echo of the word "Urulókë" rings in her mind. She shakes her head in denial.
Elva: No, no, it cannot be. (She looks around). I'm dreaming for sure — I'm certain!
Her anxious eyes fall on the timid Braiden.
Elva: Excuse me — you, come here. (Braiden points at herself). Yes, you.
Braiden steps forward. Elva stretches her hand toward her.
Elva: Pinch me.
Braiden: Pardon?
Elva: Just do it!
Braiden: (Startled) Ah— I hear.
Elva: Really hard.
Braiden nods and pinches her.
Elva: Ahh!! (She pulls her arm back, rubbing it). [Ow, that really hurts.] Do you grow nails?! [Wait! It hurts — which means… I'm not dreaming. 😵]
Braiden: 😱😫 Forgive me, My Lady…!!
Braiden tries to bow, but Elva stands in protest.
Elva: No!
They stare at her in shock.
Elva: Do not bow. Believe it or not — I am not an Eldar.
Derlinê: But it has already been proven, My Lady. Besides, the Elflord prepares a humble feast for you. (She and Braiden kneel again). For you are now… an Eldar.
A triumphant heroic tune plays.
Elva: (Sarcastically grins) Ah, hah-ha, I see. Well, if that's the case… then farewell!
She bolts out the door. Derlinê yells after her.
Derlinê: Your Ladyship!!
The two maids and two guards chase after her, calling, "My Lady!!" Elva dashes left, then right, zigzagging through corridors. She halts at the sight of seven Elven-Guards. They stare silently at each other until the calls grow louder.
Elva: Oh lawks!
She sprints away. The guards glance at one another, confused, as the pursuers rush past like wind. Elva unknowingly slips into the Court Hall through a back exit. She freezes — the Elflord and several courtiers are already present, watching her.
Elflord: (Descending from the altar) Ah, my child.
Elva turns to escape, but her chasers arrive from the way she came. They're panting.
Elflord: What happened? (He glances at Elva. She shrugs innocently). (Beaming) My child, the celebration draws near. As a Draga Successor, you should—
Elva: (Interrupts, exasperated) Enough! I'm no Dragon. I'm just a commoner. [And the most feared thief in Elfland. No applause necessary 😏.] I'm not who you all say I am.
The Elflord sighs, unsure how else to persuade her.
Elva: (To herself, but audibly)
I'm just a descendant of Skyer Wood.
Elflord: What did you just say, my child?
Elva: That I'm not who you all say I am 🤨 ?
Elflord: No, just now.
Elva: That I'm a descendant of Skyer Wood?
Royal Advisor: Son of?
Elva: Filial son of Vinar Wood.
Elflord: Peculiar. Very peculiar.
Royal Advisor: (Grinning) My Lord...
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