Arthur DID sleep this time — but it was the kind of sleep where he kept half-waking every few minutes thinking someone was yelling "ERROR" at him again. So technically it didn't count. When he finally dragged himself out of bed, his hair had decided to cosplay as a bird's nest, and his eyes were so puffy he looked like he'd been crying in the woods.
Which… honestly wasn't that far from the truth.
He shuffled into the manor hall wearing mismatched socks (he didn't notice) and found Evelynn, Leon, and Garran standing in a triangle like they were holding a war council.
"Morning…" Arthur croaked.
Leon blinked at him. "My lord— your socks are different."
Arthur looked down. "Oh… right. That's… fashion."
"It's tragic," Leon said.
Evelynn, ignoring the sock situation entirely, approached him with concern. "Did you dream again? You look pale."
"I… kind of dreamed about gears trying to eat me," Arthur muttered. "And then Craymore showed up and taxed the gears."
Leon made a sympathetic face. "That sounds awful."
Garran simply grunted. "Dreams don't matter. The ruin stirred again near dawn."
Arthur's soul gave up and walked out the door. "Why… why does it hate me…?"
Before anyone could respond, a soldier rushed into the hall.
"MY LORD— INTRUDERS AT THE BORDER!"
Arthur panicked immediately. "CRAYMORE?!"
"No— no, not humans," the soldier said quickly. "Forest kind."
Arthur blinked. "Forest kind? You mean— animals? Monster wolves again? Giant rabbits? I don't want rabbits, last time one chased me and—"
"No," the soldier said. "Elves."
Leon straightened. Garran tensed. Evelynn held Lily back gently.
And Arthur said the stupidest thing possible:
"Oh thank gods— elves are nice, right?"
Garran turned to him slowly. "Depends which ones."
Arthur froze. "Oh."
The Unexpected Visitor
Arthur, Leon, and Garran marched toward the eastern edge of the forest where the soldiers waited. Arthur tried to look serious but the wind kept blowing his hair into his mouth.
"Leon," Arthur whispered, "if this is one of those scary elf tribes that shoot first, negotiate later, please tell me now so I can pick out my grave."
Leon didn't look at him. "It's probably fine."
"That doesn't sound comforting."
"I said probably."
"That's worse!"
Garran interrupted them. "Quiet. They're close."
Indeed they were.
Because an elf stepped out of the trees like the forest had been storing her for dramatic effect.
Arthur almost tripped over his own feet.
She was tall — taller than Leon, almost as tall as Garran — with long moon-white hair braided down her back. Her ears curved elegantly, more delicate than expected. Her clothes were made of layered green-gray fabrics that looked like leaves turned into armor. And her eyes— bright teal, sharp, and carrying the expression of someone who had seen 200 years of nonsense and was tired of all of it.
Arthur's brain shut off. Then rebooted badly.
She walked forward, her posture straight, chin high, absolutely confident and absolutely dangerous.
Leon whispered, "That's an elf sentinel. They're elite."
Arthur whispered back, "Elite like friendly elite or elite like 'I can kill you with a twig'?"
"Both."
"Oh."
The elf finally spoke, her voice calm and cool like dew on steel:
"Which one of you is the new lord of Grayfall?"
Arthur panicked and pointed at Leon.
Leon panicked and shoved Arthur forward.
Arthur nearly fell into a bush.
"…I am," Arthur said weakly. "Lord. Baron. The… guy?"
The elf stared at him long enough for him to want to crawl into the dirt and disappear.
"You look very unimpressive," she said plainly.
Arthur made a choking sound. "I get that a lot…"
She didn't smile. Not even a little. "I am Aeloria Vaelthorn, envoy of the Western Glades. We sensed the disturbance in your land."
"Disturbance?" Arthur asked. "You mean— the ruins? The glowing? The error ghost? The—"
"Yes," she cut in. "The place your ancestors sealed has awakened."
Arthur tried to look smarter than he felt. "Ah. Yes. Of course. The… ancient thing… with the… circles…"
"Have you interacted with it?" she asked.
Arthur looked at Leon for backup. Leon looked at Garran for backup. Garran looked at the sky for divine assistance.
"A little," Arthur admitted. "A tiny, tiny poke."
Aeloria inhaled sharply. "You disturbed a relic older than your kingdom… with a poke?"
Arthur shrugged helplessly. "I was following instructions!!"
"What instructions?" Aeloria asked suspiciously.
Arthur pulled out Aldren's letter and held it like a holy shield. "Measure, test, don't guess!"
Aeloria's stare sharpened as she read the letter.
Then something shifted in her posture.
"You are Aldren Grayfall's son," she said slowly. "Then you are… not entirely hopeless."
Leon leaned toward Arthur. "That's a huge compliment from elves, by the way."
Arthur whispered, "It STILL sounds insulting."
Aeloria stepped closer, inspecting Arthur like a museum exhibit she wasn't impressed by but tolerated.
"The relic beneath your elm ring should not be active," she said. "The god who shaped it died centuries ago."
Arthur nodded shakily. "Yes. Dead god. Very dead. I'd like it to stay that way."
Aeloria ignored him. "Something triggered it. Something in your land is resonating. Perhaps you. Perhaps fate. Perhaps something worse."
"Unlike," Arthur muttered.
She continued, "If the mechanism continues to awaken, creatures will sense it. There are forces— predators of mana — drawn to such relics."
"Predators?" Arthur squeaked.
"Yes. And not just wolves."
Arthur almost sat on the ground right there.
Aeloria added, "Craymore will try to claim your land soon. He knows the value of what lies beneath."
Arthur groaned. "Why does everyone know more about my barony than I do?!"
Aeloria gave a non-sympathetic shrug. "Because you do not study."
Leon whispered, "She's not wrong."
Arthur glared. "Whose side are you on?!"
"Yours," Leon said sincerely. "I just… want you to do better."
That hurt in a weird soft way.
Aeloria then unslung a small knife from her belt and drove it into a nearby tree trunk — not in hostility, but so quickly Arthur jumped.
"In three days," she said, "I will return. If the relic awakens further, I will intervene."
Arthur blinked. "Intervene how?"
"However necessary."
That sounded both reassuring and terrifying.
"Prepare your soldiers. Strengthen your borders. And stop poking ancient mechanisms."
Arthur nodded vigorously. "YES. Absolutely. No more poking. Zero poking."
Leon whispered, "He's lying."
Arthur elbowed him.
Aeloria turned away… then paused.
"One more thing."
Arthur froze. "What?"
"You should eat more. You look like you faint frequently."
Arthur opened his mouth to protest but closed it because she was right.
And then Aeloria vanished back into the forest as smoothly as she appeared.
Arthur stared after her for a long moment.
"…Okay," he said finally. "I need to sit down."
Leon guided him to a log. "Sit."
"I am."
"You're sitting badly."
"I KNOW."
Village Drama: Ella vs. Seraphine
By the time Arthur returned to the manor, Seraphine was already waiting with papers scattered across the table like they were plotting world domination. Ella stood near the door holding milk, staring nervously at Seraphine like a rabbit staring at a fox wearing expensive jewelry.
"Oh good," Seraphine said without looking up. "He's alive. Barely."
Ella rushed to Arthur. "My lord! Are you okay?"
"Yes," Arthur said. "No. Maybe."
"That's not an answer," Ella said.
"It's the best I have."
Seraphine smirked. "So? What did the elf want?"
Arthur sat heavily. "She told me I'm unimpressive. Then told me not to poke things."
Seraphine nodded. "Accurate."
Ella frowned cutely. "I think you're fine…"
Arthur blinked. "…Fine good or fine average?"
"Fine fine," Ella repeated, blushing.
Seraphine narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Oh?" she said sweetly. "Do you admire the baron, Miss Ella?"
Ella turned red instantly. "N-No! I—I just—he—he's—"
Arthur raised both hands. "STOP. BOTH OF YOU. I'm emotionally fragile right now."
Leon leaned from the side. "He really is."
"LEON."
Ella pout-frowned at Seraphine. "Why do you always talk like that?"
Seraphine shrugged. "I am honest."
"You're mean," Ella muttered.
"Same thing."
Arthur put his head on the table. "I did NOT wake up today expecting girl drama."
Garran chuckled from the doorway. "Wait 'til the elf joins. That'll be the real mess."
Arthur made a whining noise.
Craymore Makes His Move
As if summoned by bad decisions, a horn blew outside the manor.
But this wasn't the village horn.
This one was deeper. Metallic. Military.
Leon's expression hardened immediately. "Craymore."
Arthur's stomach tightened. "Already?! He didn't even wait for the three days!"
Garran grabbed his sword. "He's testing the waters. Seeing if you'll submit."
Arthur shoved himself to his feet. "Leon, get the soldiers. Evelynn, take Lily inside. Ella—please hide. Seraphine— I don't know, do business or something."
Seraphine narrowed her eyes. "I'll stand beside you, idiot."
Arthur blinked. "…Thanks?"
"Don't thank me. It just looks bad if you die."
Leon shouted from the yard, "MY LORD! They sent a RAIDING PARTY!"
Arthur almost fainted. "WHAT?! WHY?! WE DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING YET!"
Seraphine muttered, "Welcome to politics."
The raiders broke through the treeline — not a huge force, but enough to intimidate. Maybe twenty men, armored lightly, holding painted shields bearing Craymore's bear sigil.
They slowed when they reached the open yard.
Leon stepped forward fearlessly.
Arthur… shuffled forward less fearlessly.
The leader sneered. "Little baron. The viscount demands compliance."
Arthur's heart hammered, but he shouted anyway:
"YOU CAN'T JUST RAID US BECAUSE YOU'RE IMPATIENT!!"
Leon added, "Try something and we cut you down."
The leader scoffed. "You and what army?"
Leon stepped aside.
Arthur stepped forward.
And behind him… the entire village militia stepped out of the shadows.
Farmers with pitchforks, hunters with bows, one old man with a pan, and several soldiers looking more confident than usual. Even Ella stood behind them holding a jug like it was a weapon of mass destruction.
The raiders hesitated.
The leader's confidence shrank a little. "This… changes nothing."
Leon smirked. "Then come try something."
The raider snarled. "You think your pitiful little numbers can—"
Garran stepped between them like a wall of metal.
"You want a fight? Try me."
The raider leader took one look at Garran — the scars, the armor, the aura of "I kill things before breakfast" — and immediately reconsidered his life choices.
"We'll… report your insolence," he spat. "Expect consequences."
They retreated into the forest.
Arthur let out a shaky breath that could have been a squeak.
"We did it…" he muttered. "We… we scared them off…"
Leon grinned. "You did great, my lord."
Arthur shook his head. "No— YOU did great. I screamed. A lot."
Seraphine rolled her eyes. "Yes. But it was an effective scream."
Ella smiled softly. "It was brave."
Garran grumbled, "They'll be back in larger numbers. But for a first stand… not bad."
Arthur fell to his knees. "I want to die."
"No," Leon said, grabbing his shoulders. "Not allowed."
Arthur sighed. "Fine…"
Nightfall and a Flicker in the Ruins
When night fell, the village returned to uneasy quiet.
Arthur went to the wall again. Looking toward the elm ring. The ruins glowed faintly beneath the earth.
A small pulse of light flickered.
Then faded.
Then flickered again.
Arthur whispered:
"…Please don't explode…"
Leon appeared beside him. "My lord?"
Arthur looked at him tiredly. "Leon… do you ever wonder how I'm still alive?"
Leon answered without hesitation. "Because we're here."
Arthur felt something warm in his chest.
Then fear. Then warmth again. Then fear because warmth usually led to crying.
He wiped his face and whispered:
"Okay. Tomorrow… we prepare for everything."
Leon nodded. "Tomorrow."
Arthur gulped.
The ruins hummed again.
And Grayfall's quiet night trembled with the promise of chaos.