The Whispering Forest grew brighter as Yuehan and Lira neared their destination. The sunlight, veiled between layers of canopy, refracted into dazzling rays of emerald, gold, and pale sapphire. Birds with bright feathers flew through the branches, their melodious chirps echoing like crystalline chirps.
Yuehan felt the forest around them change—not with caution, as before, but with recognition. Leaves rustled in the still wind. Flowers bloomed behind them. Soft slivers of light floated near her like curious spirits.
Lira noticed.
"The Glade welcomes you," she whispered, though her voice was tinged with confusion. "It hasn't greeted an outsider like this in… centuries."
Yuehan smiled slightly, though anxiety welled up beneath. "Should I be respected?"
"Perhaps," Lira said. "Or perhaps the forest knows more than we do."
Approaching the Verdant Gate
The trees suddenly parted, revealing a towering arch woven from living vines and silverwood branches. In its center shone a clear barrier of emerald light, gently rippling like a lake disturbed by the wind.
Two elven guards stood guard—tall, stern, their armor shaped like layers of leaves that had hardened into steel. Their spears glinted faintly at the tips.
As Lira approached, the guards stood erect.
"Lira Aerendyl," one said. "You will return sooner than expected. And with someone."
"A wounded man," the second added, eyes narrowing. "He carries the symbol of ancient clothing."
Lira stepped forward. "I am taking him under my protection. He was attacked by Abyssal undead. He has no memory of who he is."
The guards exchanged worried glances.
"The Abyssal Dominion? Here? That is—"
"Impossible," one concluded.
Yuehan tried to nod respectfully but almost lost his balance. Lira caught him before he could fall.
The guard leaned closer, studying him with sharp silver eyes. "Human, tell me your name."
Yuehan swallowed. "My name is… Yuehan."
The barrier of light flashed.
The two guards stiffened—as if the forest itself responded to the spoken name.
"His presence arouses the guards," one whispered in an irritating whisper. "This is no ordinary stranger."
Lira tightened her grip on Yuehan's arm. "We are looking for an entrance. The Elders must see him."
After a moment of hesitation, the guards stepped aside.
"Alright. But Aerendyl—be prepared to answer for whatever you bring into our home."
Lira nodded curtly. "I know."
With a sweeping gesture from one of the guards, the green barrier dissolved like mist.
They were enveloped in light.
The scent of ancient flowers and wild magic enveloped Yuehan.
He stepped into Green Glade—and the world changed.
The Hanging City of Leaves
The Glade was awe-inspiring.
Dwellings carved from giant trees wound upward, connected by bridges of woven vines thicker than ropes. Crystal lanterns dangled overhead, sparkling in the late starlight. Waterfalls cascaded from hanging reservoirs, forming clear streams that wound through the village like veins of liquid silver.
Children of elves played among the veins, their laughter carrying a ringing melody. Merchants strolled past stalls filled with medicinal herbs, magical ornaments, and living flowers that bloomed when spoken to.
Everything was vibrant. Everything was alive.
But as Yuehan entered, the energy of the place changed.
Every head of the elves turned in their directions—some curious, some fearful, some downright angry. Laughter gave way to grunts. Mothers pulled their children closer. Warriors descended from the rooftops, silently watching.
Lira's jaw clenched.
"Ignore them," she whispered. "The Glade is wary of strangers."
"I see," Yuehan whispered, shrinking slightly under the weight of dozens of watching eyes.
Much to her surprise, as she passed under an ancient tree, vines curled down toward her—dragging her shoulder in a greeting.
Lira stared at the movement with a frown. "That... that shouldn't be happening."
"Why?"
"Those vines only respond to related elves—or Guardians."
Yuehan's blood froze. "You keep using that word. Guardian. What does it mean?"
Lira shook her head. "Not here. Not where everyone can hear."
Because they were being followed—she could feel it. A dozen elven guards peered at their steps from the treetops.
The House of Memory
They reached a massive tree, older and wider than all the others. Its roots intertwined to form a natural doorway. Silver lanterns hung around the entrance, each carved with swirling runes that softly pulsed a soft blue light.
Lira guided her inside.
The interior was surprisingly warm and dark. Shelves filled with scrolls lined the walls. Crystal orbs floated in the air, each displaying fragments of images—past events captured by the elves' memory magic.
A faint voice came from deeper within.
"You will return sooner than the wind predicted."
An old elf emerged from behind a curtain of hanging vines. Her hair was white as snow, braided in intricate designs. Her robes shone like woven moonlight. Her eyes—deep, ancient—seemed to be looking directly into Yuehan's soul.
Yuehan felt exposed, as if she had peeled away the layers of her identity with a single glance.
"Elder Eilis," Lira said, bowing respectfully. "We have a human with us. Her name is Yuehan. She carries the symbol of Dorotheou… and is being pursued by the undead."
Eilis caught her breath.
He slowly approached Yuehan.
He raised his hand. He gently touched the symbol.
It glowed.
His eyes widened—not in fear, but in revelation. He carefully followed an invisible rune on the symbol. The light flashed for a moment, and then—
He took a deep breath and stepped back.
"No…" he whispered. "I can't. After all these years…"
Yuehan's heart pounded. "Do you know who I am?"
Eilis looked up at him.
"I know who you are."
Lira stiffened.
"Elder, explain."
Eilis's voice trembled, not in fear—but in wonder.
"The symbol recognizes him. The forest recognizes him. Even the wards tremble at his name." He sighed. "This child… this person…"
He bowed slightly.
"…is the blood of the royal line of Dorotheou."
The room darkened. Even the crystals dimmed.
Yuehan felt the world tilt.
"Nobility…?" he whispered, stunned. "I—how could—"
But Eilis gently raised a hand to silence him.
"That's just the beginning, child." Her eyes locked on his. "Because your blood does not only carry the legacy of kings."
He stepped closer. His next words shook the air.
"You carry the light of the Guardians."