Morning crept slowly over the Endless Forest, staining the treetops with a pale silver as the last remnants of night dissolved into mist. Dozens of elves moved quietly beneath the canopy, their steps light upon the damp earth. They walked in a loose formation around a single human woman who clutched an infant tightly to her chest. Her eyes were hidden beneath a blindfold. Two elves guided her by the arms so she would not stumble against roots or brush. The child in her hold remained unusually silent, either sleeping or simply calm, and though that strangeness might have worried another group, these elves accepted it as a blessing or they might not have cared; the forest was already dangerous enough without a crying infant.
After hours of walking, the trees thinned, and a massive wall of interwoven wood appeared through the fading mist. It was ancient looking. Layers of vines, moss, and flowering plants wrapped around it like a natural tapestry. At first glance it looked grown, not built artificially, though the symmetry of its structure betrayed careful hands and centuries of craft. A tall guard tower rose from beside a wooden gate carved with flowing lights that glowed faintly in the early light.
Two elves in the tower looked down at the new arrival group of elves. One of them leaned forward, and asked with a sharp voice.
"Who approaches the north gate? No patrol exited through here. State your names and the gate from which you departed the city."
Eirathas stepped to the front, placing a hand over his heart in a respectful gesture. His posture was proud, but his voice carried a polite calm.
"May mother tree be pleased with you, brothers. We were tasked to patrol the southern reaches of the forest. We departed through the South Gate and completed our route through the northern path."
"Then show the exit mark," the guard demanded.
Eirathas tossed a small red stone upward. It was caught and inspected briefly by the guard. The guard's attention then drifted to the blindfolded woman. His eyes gleamed with curiosity.
"And who is the human? A slaver? One to be punished?"
Eirathas replied with a dry amusement. "Something similar. She will be judged by the council soon."
Cynthia was annoyed by his remark, yet she only clicked her tongue and stayed silent. The guard descended the tower ladder and approached. With a gesture, the great wooden doors opened, and the city beyond revealed itself.
Once inside the gate, the elves guiding her removed her blindfold.
The world inside the walls was nothing like what Cynthia expected. Where the forest had felt full of darkness and silence, Eldhaven pulsed with life. Houses shaped from fallen dead trees curved in graceful arches, their surfaces covered in thick leaves that shimmered like living emerald. Vines climbed up walls in patterns resembling delicate embroidery. Every structure seemed grown rather than built, as though nature itself had chosen to cooperate with the elves.
Animals wandered freely through the streets. Some she recognized only from glimpses during her time among human slavers, where such creatures were sold for obscene amounts of gold to nobles or mages. Here they roamed unbothered, pausing to sniff at fruit vendors or play with elven children. Even the air smelled different. Rich soil, fresh leaves, morning dew. Pure, unspoiled life.
The moment Eirathas saw that Cynthia's blindfold had been removed and she was gazing around the city, his expression hardened.
"Have you lost your minds?" he snapped at the elves who had removed her blindfold. "You're revealing our city to the enemy! Why not march straight into the human world and invite an army to slaughter us all? Ha—that'd be enough, wouldn't it?"
The female captain beside him folded her arms and shook her head. "Enough, Eirathas. The blindfold was meant only to conceal the path we walked—never our city. We will not answer fear with cruelty simply because she is human. If we stoop to the ways of those humans who deal harshly with our kind, then we become no different from them."
Eirathas's jaw clenched, but he offered no further argument.
As Cynthia blinked against the brightness, her eyes slowly adjusted. She heard soft laughter behind her and caught the murmured voices of two elves.
"Eirathas is hopeless. He behaves like a proud rooster with us, yet becomes obedient as a fawn when the captain speaks," one whispered.
The other chuckled. "He is certainly in love. High blood or not, he is blind to it."
Cynthia nearly sighed aloud. So the arrogant one was also a lovesick fool. That explained much.
Yet her attention was quickly stolen back to the city. Children peeked at her from behind their parents' legs. Their wide eyes filled with fear. Some whispered questions, asking what sort of creature she was. Others hid entirely, trembling. It was the first time many of them had ever seen a human. Their parents, trying to soothe them, explained in hushed voices that humans were dangerous, sometimes cruel. Cynthia understood why. Humans had given elves no reason to trust them. Not after centuries of raids, slavery, and violence.
Despite their fear, the city was breathtaking. Fruit-bearing trees grew in narrow groves alongside the walkways, and groups of elves tended to them with gentle care. A breeze rustled through a corridor of leaves, revealing a glimpse of something vast in the distance.
Cynthia's steps slowed. Awe washed over her.
At the heart of Eldhaven city stood a tree so enormous it defied comprehension. Its trunk was wide enough to house an entire village. Its branches climbed so high they vanished into the light above. Leaves shimmered with an almost divine glow, as though sunlight loved them more than anything else in the world.
She whispered under her breath, "The world tree."
Stories among humans spoke of it as a myth. A deity made wood and leaf. The mother of all elves. A living spirit that birthed the elves ancestors before creating lesser spirits to guide the world. No human rumor had done justice to the sight before her.
If one stood in the sky, perhaps the crown could be seen clearly. But from the ground it dominated everything like a giant guardian angel over the Endless Forest.
As they continued toward the inner districts, the infant in Cynthia's arms stirred. His small eyes opened, bright and silent. Cynthia smiled and kissed the top of his head.
"Oh, little Aegon… you are finally awake. Such a good boy. You did not cry even once. You have spared me many troubles. Truly, you are the most understanding child."
Aegon rolled his tiny eyes, although Cynthia did not notice. She merely kept walking until Eirathas halted suddenly and gestured toward a small residence.
"You will remain here," he said coldly. "We will inform the Council of your arrival. Until they decide your fate, you are not to leave. These guards will watch you. Humans cannot be trusted, after all. You might know that better than most—since you claim to seek refuge from them."
Without waiting for her response, he and the captain turned and began walking toward the world tree.
Cynthia entered the wooden house. It was modest but warm, with plant-woven walls and soft sunlight streaming in through leafy windows. The guards took positions outside, their shadows stretching across the doorway.
She set Aegon onto a padded mat and asked for water. When it was provided, she gently bathed him, washing away the days of dust and sweat. She cleaned his tiny clothes and hung them in a patch of sunlight until they dried. Wrapping him in a warm blanket, she placed him beside her and lay down. Exhaustion dragged at her limbs. Her mind drifted through memories of running through the forest, of fear, of losing a friend she could not save.
Before she realized it, sleep had claimed her completely.
***********************
Cynthia woke to the soft sound of footsteps outside the wooden house. For a moment her heart lurched, and instinct took over. She sat up quickly, scooping Aegon into her arms with a grip tightened by fear. The infant blinked in surprise but made no sound. Cynthia rose to her feet just as the door opened.
Relief washed through her when she saw the familiar face of the female elf who had brought her into the city.The Elf stepped inside with quiet grace and calm expression.
"It seems you were asleep," she said gently. "Good. When we found you, you were in poor shape—like someone who had been wandering the Endless Forest for days. I am still surprised no creature crossed your path… well, except those naughty little dire wolves. Truly, fortune was with you last night."
"Well, yes." Cynthia exhaled shakily. "I have been running for days before you found me. I suppose the tiredness only caught up now. So… did Her Majesty, the Queen, say anything about meeting me? When can I meet your queen?"
The Elf shook her head slightly. "Do not worry. You will see her when the council gathers. We informed them about you and the child. They have summoned you, and they wish to speak to you in person. Your judgment will be decided afterward."
Cynthia nodded. "All right. Give me a moment to dress Aegon."
The Elf stepped back outside. Cynthia fetched the tiny clothes she had washed and dried in the morning sun. As she dressed Aegon, she whispered softly, "Little one, today is important. Be calm as you always are. Please, just stay quiet a while longer and then I will let you rest."
He stared at her with those piercing ice blue eyes, the same eyes his mother had. Cynthia's chest tightened. "You look so much like her, my dear. I wish she were here."
She finished preparing herself, splashed her face with cool water, then gathered the child into her arms and stepped outside. The Elf waited alone and it seemed she had dismissed the guards who had been watching the house.
"Are you ready?" the Elf asked.
Cynthia nodded.
"Then follow me."
They began walking toward the world tree, its towering crown visible even between rows of houses. After a short silence Cynthia asked, "What is your name? You never told me."
The elf glanced back. "You may not have heard it during your time with us, since everyone called me Captain. My name is Sinna. And yours? You never offered it."
Cynthia nearly rolled her eyes. "You never asked. It's is Cynthia."
Sinna raised a brow. "Only Cynthia? No family name?"
"No. No surname," she replied quietly.
Sinna nodded and continued forward. After several steps she asked, "So you are a commoner?"
"Yes. The daughter of a baker. He passed away long ago." Cynthia tightened her arms around Aegon. "Just a simple beginning."
"Hmm." Sinna sounded unconvinced. "You do not look like a commoner. Humans born to poor lives usually have thin bodies from hunger, skin roughened by sun and labor, hands cracked from harsh work. Their clothes are worn and faded. Their faces show a lifetime of hardship. But you look different. Your skin is smooth, your posture balanced, and you hold mana within you. Only those trained by families of means know how to use mana at the novice rank. So you do not look like any commoner I have ever met."
Cynthia felt the color drain from her face. She tried to laugh lightly. "My uncle was a soldier. He taught me a little bit. Truly, just a little, and I have been stuck at the novice rank for years. Nothing impressive, I promise."
She glanced nervously at Sinna's back. The elf was sharp. Far sharper than Cynthia liked.
Fortunately Sinna seemed willing to drop the matter. "Hmm. Well, it no longer matters. We will reach the council soon. When we enter, speak only when asked. Do not interrupt anyone and do not show disrespect. Some there would not hesitate to take your head. And remember to bow. The council members are highly honored figures. Also, be grateful. Very few humans have ever stood so near to the mother tree. You should consider it a blessing."
"I will," Cynthia said quietly.
They crossed a small wooden bridge where clear water whispered beneath them. Beyond it, the houses ended abruptly. The air shifted. This area was sacred. Elven archers stood at intervals, guards with straight backs and solemn faces. No families walked here, no children played. Only the rustling of leaves and the breath of the great tree filled the space.
"Today is a council gathering," Sinna explained. "When that happens, common elves may not enter this place to pray. Council meetings must be held beneath the mother tree's presence. It is she who whispers guidance and judgment. And you should know this. The council was prepared to expel you from Eldhaven. They were furious that a human had entered the forest alive. But the mother tree ordered them to bring you and the child here. Without her command you would not be standing here now."
A nervous chill traced down Cynthia's spine. She held Aegon closer. He looked around with wide eyes, fascinated by the shimmering leaves above.
She swallowed. "Did you tell her majesty the queen about Vaelmira? About what happened?"
Sinna clicked her tongue. "I was not given the chance. Eirathas reported first. And you know how he is. He told the council what he wished, not what was needed. He spoke nonsense, and so they wanted you thrown out immediately. Only the mother tree stopped them."
"But you are the captain," Cynthia protested. "Why was he allowed to speak before you? In the human world, the leader of the group delivers the report."
Sinna's shoulders stiffened. "He is the son of one of the council members. High blood. His word carries more weight than mine, regardless of merit. Such is the nature of our hierarchy."
"So you have nobles with superiority complexes too," Cynthia muttered before she could stop herself.
Sinna spun around, her expression suddenly cold. "Watch your tongue, Cynthia. Speaking ill of high elves can cost you more than your freedom. If you seek refuge here, you must learn caution."
Cynthia raised her free hand. "All right. I am sorry. Truly. I have had unpleasant experiences with people like him. That is all."
"Good," Sinna said, though her tone remained firm. "Respect those of high blood and you will avoid trouble. Now come. We have arrived. Do as I do and remain silent unless spoken to."
They stepped onto a vast field of green. Soft grass swayed gently, dotted with flowers whose petals glowed faintly as if painted by starlight. The world tree towered over the clearing. Its trunk rose into infinity, ancient and impossibly serene. Cynthia felt something warm settle in her chest, a calming presence that eased the tension from her hands.
In the distance stood five seats carved from the roots of the world tree itself. Figures sat upon them, their forms still indistinct from afar, but their silhouettes alone radiated authority. Cynthia's breath caught. These were the council members who would decide if she lived in safety or was cast into the wilderness.
She tightened her hold on Aegon and followed Sinna forward, her heart beating with a nervous rhythm that echoed the trembling leaves overhead.