The courthouse's food house was tucked into a shaded alcove near the east wing, its open archways letting in filtered sunlight and the constant perfume of steamed herbs and roasted roots. Inside, a long wooden table curved gently around the central stone hearth, where elven cooks stirred bubbling cauldrons of faintly glowing broths.
As Noah and Valinish stepped inside, a few heads turned—but only briefly. A handful of elves sat quietly, sipping warm green soups or dipping dense flatbread into small trays of ground spices.
Valinish looked at Noah, eyes traveling from his patched cloak to the oversized, threadbare tunic he wore—clearly altered to fit from a slimmer elven frame. He smirked. "You know, you keep wearing our hand-me-downs like that, and people are going to think you're a lost tailor's experiment."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Hey, this was your idea. I'm lucky these sleeves don't strangle me when I move."
Valinish chuckled and motioned toward the table of food. "Pick something. Just don't faint if you accidentally eat a root that talks back."
The spread was colorful—pale-green pastes, ruby-red sliced fruits, thin translucent leaves curled around crushed nuts, and broths that seemed to shimmer with heat without actually steaming. Most dishes were plant-based and light, but the flavors—at least by scent—were strong, layered, and oddly tempting.
Under each serving was a thin, hard parchment with text written in Sanguese, the formal elven script used in administrative and trade contexts. Noah squinted at one in front of a blackish stew that bubbled softly in a clay pot.
"Pine-Lily Stew," the label read.
"A traditional elven dish prepared from the bark of the rare Pine-Lily tree. The bark, when fried with salt, golden-seed oil, and wild sage, softens and mimics the texture of bone-cut meat. A favorite for those missing the idea of stew without the need for actual flesh."
Noah leaned in, lips twitching into a grin. "This? This is the stew Lowarion recommended? That bark looks like it survived a house fire."
Valinish reached past him and ladled some into a shallow bowl. "That bark's older than most of the guards in this court."
Noah smirked. "It's not real stew. I don't care how close it tastes. You give me one animal and five spices, and I'll turn into Masterchef Sylvas Reach, buddy."
Valinish choked on a laugh. "You? You can cook?"
"I could cook well enough to not die," Noah said, grabbing a tray of braided roots and thick green paste. "That's high praise where I'm from."
They picked a seat near the window, the soft wind filtering through thin drapes of plant-skin linen. As they sat, Noah's eyes drifted to the adjacent table—and froze.
Wiktor Dragan sat with a stiff posture, his raven-hawk perched like a living statue on his shoulder. Two other human men in slightly less formal clothes flanked him, sipping from crystalline cups and poking half-heartedly at their stew bowls.
The stew hadn't impressed them.
One man grimaced after each bite. The other just chewed grimly, as if fulfilling a duty.
Wiktor's sharp eyes caught Noah's. He didn't look angry—just amused, in a way that invited discomfort.
"Well, well," Wiktor said, tapping the rim of his bowl. "Why the fuck is a human kid sitting here like he owns the place?"
The two men chuckled, clearly emboldened.
Wiktor leaned on one elbow, speaking louder now. "Where are your guardians, kiddo? You an orphan or something? Did these lovely elves take you in like a lost pup?"
Noah didn't rise. He didn't look away, either.
Wiktor's voice took on a smooth, syrupy mockery. "Come with us to Zelgrod. That's the capital, you know of Żelazny Dominium, where I am from .You'd like it there. Real meat. Real cities. We'll take care of you… best we can."
Valinish didn't let the moment stretch. He leaned forward with a wide, practiced smile.
"Ah, apologies, merchant Dragan," he said easily. "But young Noah's been with us a long time. Practically raised under these trees. He's our brother, and it would wound our hearts to see him leave."
Wiktor's smile stiffened. He slowly wiped the edge of his mouth with a fine cloth. "Oh, no offense meant. Just asking. It's just—how do I say this politely?"
He gestured vaguely around. "This… settlement, popping up in the middle of the largest uninhabited tract in Opusterra… you understand, it raises questions. A haven for elves, sure—we're generous about that, even if it's all a bit off the books. Refugee camps are one thing."
He tapped his spoon on his empty cup.
"But when humans—unknown ones—start appearing too… well. It starts looking less like a refugee camp and more like a rebellion seedbed. And that can… inspire certain types. Dreamers. Warmongers. Adventurers."
The last word landed like a knife.
Noah tilted his head. "Funny."
Wiktor arched an eyebrow.
"You keep saying 'we' and 'generous' like you're here to help out of kindness. But you sound more like a diplomat than a merchant," Noah said evenly. "Bit weird that."
There was a tense silence. Even the hawk's eyes narrowed.
Then Wiktor chuckled, low and quiet. "Ah. Sharp tongue. I'll give you that. Hope it serves you well here."
Valinish smiled again, but this time, there was an edge in it.
"I'm sure it will," he said. "Here, sharp minds grow sharper still. Even if they start out in hand-me-downs.".
Got it — you want to **start from when Noah and Valinish finish eating at the courthouse food house**, not repeat or jump ahead too far. Here's the proper continuation, picking up from that exact moment:
---
Noah and Valinish finished the last of their stew, both leaning back slightly in their chairs with mild satisfaction.
Valinish let out a quiet sigh. "I'm telling you, Noah. You keep making fun of our food, but the day you actually cook something, I'll prepare the banquet hall myself."
Noah smirked. "Just give me a proper kitchen and one animal. I'll have the elves licking their fingers and begging for recipes."
Valinish chuckled and stood, brushing off some crumbs. "We'll see. Come on, before the old elves shut this place down for their nightly herbal teas."
As they left their table, Noah glanced back—Wiktor and his companions were already gone. Their table, now empty, still had half-finished bowls of stew and untouched drinks. Not surprising.
The sun had dipped behind the distant trees, casting Sylvas Reach in amber shadows. The settlement quieted as workers trickled home. Valinish split off, heading toward the barracks after giving Noah a casual wave. "Rest well. Tomorrow might be… hectic."
Noah made his way to his assigned stay—a modest wooden room built along a stretch of connected lodges. Inside, he laid on the simple bed, hands behind his head, staring up at the carved wooden ceiling. The room smelled faintly of moss and dried lavender.
A few hours later, the cool night air stirred him. He pushed the blanket off, got up, and unlatched the door quietly.
Outside, the forest stretched under a vast, starlit sky. For a long moment, Noah just stood there, staring. The sky here wasn't like London's—no buzzing planes, no amber haze, no pollution. Just an endless sea of glittering stars and silence so thick he could almost hear it.
Then—
*Clang!
Something struck him—light, but sharp. It glanced off his shoulder with enough force to push him back half a step. Reflexively, he brought up his arms, eyes narrowing into the shadows ahead.
From the edge of the nearby structure, a figure limped into view, barely illuminated by the faint moonlight. The silhouette bent down—clumsy, like he'd dropped something.
"That's a sword", Noah registered.
The figure picked it up with effort, one hand clutching what looked like a bleeding side. He was wounded.
But still trying to run.
Noah remained perfectly still, mind racing. The way the figure moved, dragging one leg—"Was it real? Or was he faking it to bait me?"
His instincts screamed not to follow. Not yet. He had no backup, no idea who the attacker was, and this was no place for blind pursuit.
He slowly stepped back and shut his door. Locked it. Sat down on the bed and exhaled.
After a beat, something flickered in the air in front of him.
A faint hum pulsed once, and then his status window appeared:
---
Species: Human
SBT Combat Rankings: 20
Unique Skills:
Resolve Echo (LV-1)
Dominion Sense (LV-1)
---
He stared at the glowing text for a while, then shut his eyes.
Tomorrow, he thought, "everything might change."
But for now, he'd wait, and listen.