Walking down a set of stone-carved stairs, Dae's breath grows shallow. Sweat beads down her forehead. Her golden-red pupils shake faintly as she stabs a thin ten-inch needle into her own stomach. The needle's contents—a bubbling, emerald-green liquid—glow faintly as it surges through her veins. Her skin hisses, cracked wounds sealing slowly as her torn flesh mends. "It took a bit of effort, but I managed to get it," she whispers, each breath growing steadier.
In her trembling hand, she holds a tiny black and red seed—but to call it 'held' is a stretch. The seed glows faintly, shaped like a small, crystalline gem. It doesn't sit still in her palm. Instead, it floats just above her skin, resisting contact, an impossible artifact humming with latent power.
She descends further into a vast underground chamber. The moment she crosses the threshold, the air depressurizes. It's silent but feels oppressive, the weight of the room pushing inward from all sides. The space stretches outward in all directions, filled with dozens of towering ten-foot-tall pods. Each pod pulses faintly, filled with thick liquid—some an opaque whitish-green, others boiling in a violent sky-blue. Schematics, filled with intricate arcane diagrams and detailed glyphs, are scrawled across the stone walls. Sheets of paper, inscribed with notes and formulas, float lazily in the air like weightless feathers.
At the heart of the room lies a massive pod, an aquarium-like chamber at least twenty feet across. Hundreds of thick pipes snake through the walls and ceiling, converging at this central structure. Nearby, colossal pistons—each the height of a man—pulse in silence, ready to force liquid through the veins of this living machine.
Dae approaches the control panel set before the main pod. Without hesitation, she places the floating seed into a waiting air tunnel. A gentle suction pulls it in, sending the gem-like seed spiraling into the depths of the machine.
"Preparations are complete. There's no point in hiding it now," she murmurs softly, adjusting the levels of glowing liquid with practiced ease. Her crimson hair shifts as she moves, strands catching in the dim light. "Even if you manage to understand what I'm currently doing, the process takes a decade."
The pistons hiss and shudder. Machinery grinds to life with a deep, rumbling hum, sending vibrations through the floor.
A soft whisper stirs the stagnant air.
"We have successfully led them here. Our part is done. Given your status, we hope you can take over from here."
Dae's gaze doesn't waver. Her eyes remain fixed on a single, unmoving shadow across the machinery—a shape hidden in the periphery.
"This is a sanitary place. Pets aren't allowed," she murmurs coldly. Her finger twitches subtly.
The shadow convulses violently, twisting into impossible angles as whispers claw at its form. It lets out a faint, wet screech—but as quickly as it began, it stops. The form collapses into itself, returning to a quiet, stationary shadow.
-
The first rays of dawn brush the canopy with gold, yet beneath the towering trees, light fractures into a hundred emerald shards. Vines drape from branches like curtains of silk, heavy with dew that glistens as though strung with stars. Flowers bloom in impossible abundance—petals spread wide as if basking in a sun long absent. The air thickens with the scent of earth, rain, and something sharper—like crushed mint leaves and the first breath after a storm.
No bird sings, yet the air hums with life. Leaves stir as if touched by unseen hands. The ground softens underfoot, springing back with each step, and the grass shivers in waves as though whispering secrets to one another. Even the stones seem to pulse faintly, moss clinging to their surfaces like velvet.
In the distance, thin waterfalls cascade from nowhere, silver ribbons that glow faintly before dissolving into mist at the base of ancient roots. Pools mirror the sky perfectly, disturbed only by the ripples of unseen fish—or perhaps something else. The trees are giants, their trunks thick as fortress walls, bark etched with patterns not carved but grown through the patient press of time. Branches arch high, forming cathedral canopies that catch the breeze like sails. When the wind stirs, it's not a mere rustle—it's a thousand leaves breathing as one.
A sharp laugh cuts through the air.
High above, barely visible against the dappled light, a flicker of movement zips between leaves. Wings shimmer—delicate, a cross between dragonfly and butterfly—beating so fast they blur into streaks of iridescence. The figure—barely five inches tall, with leaflike clothes clinging to her tiny frame—whips past, her skin shifting from green to bark-brown as she tries to disappear against the tree trunk.
"It's not funny, Orlaith!" she shrieks, her voice high and sharp as she darts around a twisting vine. "Stop it!"
Another laugh follows, softer but edged with mischief. Orlaith swoops low, riding astride an owl whose feathers blend seamlessly with the shadows. The owl's wings beat silently, carrying them through the air with uncanny grace. Orlaith leans forward, her tiny hands gripping a makeshift rein of twisted grass, her wings flickering with glee.
"Come on, Lysel!" she calls out, laughter bubbling from her lips. "If you're going to complain, at least fly faster!"
Lysel twists sharply, her translucent wings catching the light. She zips between two tree trunks, barely avoiding the snapping beak of the owl as it lunges after her. "This isn't fair! You said we'd go exploring, not hunting!"
Swoosh! Woosh! Woosh! Woosh!
They zip through the air, twisting wildly around trees and over hills, their wings slicing the air with each beat. Below them, a startled red fox stumbles dizzily, its legs splaying as it collapses in a confused heap.
"Seriously, stop it, Orlaith! We're supposed to be scouting. The guardians are not going to like it if they find out you're playing around!" Lysel yells through the air, her golden hair whipping past her face as she comes to a sudden halt. Her green eyes gleam faintly as she sniffs the air, wings trembling.
"Do you smell that?"
"Do I ever!" Orlaith smirks, halting beside her and inhaling deeply. "Come on, let's go back and tell them we found food." He grins, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the sky on the owl.
—
"No, no matter how many times you ask me, I won't allow it," Mirelith sighs, rubbing his eyes as he reclines on a large, curled leaf. His wings differ from the others—larger, shimmering with constantly shifting colors. Unlike his kin who control their hues, Mirelith's wings shift on their own accord, waves of color rippling like oil on water. His golden, wavy hair floats unnaturally around him, and he keeps his bright golden eyes closed.
"I've said this once and again: elves have different values from humans, but they still contain greed. I have witnessed what they're capable of, so stop asking for permission to visit them. This is for everyone's safety," he mumbles with a yawn, sipping a droplet of water.
"But Your Highness! There's a limit to how much sap these delicate trees can give, and by now, we need another source of food," a man sighs, pushing his long hair back with an irritated gesture. "This is unfair. You keep us locked in this forest, and though, yes, we're thankful for your protection, it's not needed. We didn't ask for you to do this." He huffs, frustration lacing his words, and flies off.
With a small sigh, Ithiona settles by the prince's side. Her wavy hair, a blend of gold and black, cascades to her chest. Her golden irises, flecked with green pupils, shimmer in the filtered light. She rests a wooden staff across her knees, her smile faint but knowing.
"They're getting restless. Every day they complain more and more, Your Highness. They don't like how controlling you are," she whispers gently.
Mirelith's golden eyes open slowly, their light catching on the tree bark as a flower blossoms quietly beside him.
"They don't understand. They don't have to. I'm doing my job to protect them," he murmurs softly, his gaze unfocused. "I'll be ascending soon, so it won't be much longer until I'm out of their wings."