Robin woke up to the sound of birds . The melody was soft and harmonious, a natural symphony that seemed to blend with the rustling of trees outside. The room felt alive, as though the great tree that housed it was breathing in the morning sun.

He stretched and sat up.The air carried the scent of fresh blossoms and morning dew. For a moment, he simply sat there, absorbing the tranquility of the place. It was a stark contrast to the bustling, technology-driven world he had left behind.

A soft knock at the door broke his reverie.

"Come in," Robin called, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

A servant entered, bowing politely. "Good morning, Master Robin," the servant said with a warm smile. "The chief has instructed me to bring you and your companions to the dining area. Breakfast is ready."

Robin nodded and quickly got ready. Oliver and Andrew were already waiting for him outside his room, both looking rested. Together, they followed the servant down a winding staircase that spiraled around the massive trunk of the tree. The staircase seemed to have grown naturally from the wood itself, its surface smooth and polished.

When they emerged into the open air, Robin was struck by the sheer beauty of the dining area. It was nestled among the upper branches of the great tree, with a breathtaking view of the surrounding landscape. From this height, Robin could see the entire forest spreading out like a sea. Birds of every imaginable color flitted between the branches, their feathers catching the sunlight in dazzling displays. Bees and butterflies hovered around . It looks like a scene from a Disney movie.

The dining area itself was simple. A long wooden table was set with hand-carved plates and cups, and the food was laid out in a way that felt both rustic and elegant. There were bowls of fresh fruits ,berries, melons, figs, and exotic fruits Robin didn’t recognize. A jar of honey sat in the center. Beside it was a basket of freshly baked bread.

Robin sat down and took a piece of bread, dipping it into the honey. The flavor exploded in his mouth—it was sweet but layered with a complexity that hinted the variety of flowers. The fruit was perfectly ripe, its juices refreshing and vibrant.

"This is incredible," Robin said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. He looked at the servant who stood nearby. "Thank you."

The servant bowed slightly.

He saw Andrew was gulping the food like a void. Robin chuckled at Andrew's enthusiasm.

The simplicity of the meal was a reminder of the beauty in the basics.

As they finished their meal, the servant returned. "The chief has requested an audience with you, Master Robin. If you are ready, I will take you to him."

Robin wiped his hands on a cloth napkin and stood. "Lead the way."

They descended from the tree and walked along a winding path that led to a garden behind its base. The garden was nothing short of a masterpiece. It was filled with a dazzling array of flowers, their colors so vivid they seemed almost unreal. Streams of clear water meandered through the garden, their gentle babbling adding to the serene atmosphere. The air was filled with the hum of bees and the occasional trill of a bird.

In the center of the garden, seated on a branch, was the chief. Even though he's young but his presence commanding yet approachable.

"Welcome, young master," the chief said, his voice deep and resonant. He gestured to the garden around them. "I trust your morning was pleasant?"

Robin smiled. "It was wonderful. Thank you for the hospitality. This place is... breathtaking."

The chief inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I am glad you feel that way. Please, sit." He gestured to a wooden bench opposite him, its surface smooth and polished.

Robin sat, feeling the coolness of the wood beneath him. All the people from his crew except raylan and marla was here. As robin felt they can enjoy Their time around and not mingle with politics. So Oliver, Andrew and Norman just stand behind him and Seraphina set on a bench behind robin.

The chief waved a hand, and a servant appeared, carrying a tray of drinks. The liquid in the cups was pale and frothy, with a refreshing aroma. Robin took a sip and was surprised by the tangy, invigorating flavor a mix of citrus and mint that seemed to revitalize him instantly.

"I understand," the chief began, "that you may have heard stories about us from others. Perhaps they painted us as barbarian and fierce beast. But before you judge, I wish to tell you our side of the story. Only then will you understand why we are the way we are."

Robin nodded. "I'm here to listen."

The chief leaned forward slightly, his expression serious. "Long ago, before this land became what you now know as Ignisara, it was a vast desert. It was a harsh place, home to many nomadic clans. For centuries, clans would clash for resources and water, each clan following its own agenda.

So war was a common thing between nomadic clans.Then, a great king rose among us. He united the clans under one banner, creating a society where all could thrive. No war means progress we thrived in this part of the world."

Robin listened intently, captivated by the chief's words.

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"But then," the chief continued, his voice tinged with sadness, "came the age of science and technology. Some people from our clans who venture outside and arrived with machines and grand ideas.

People were captive by those machines they could work more efficiently than magic. Some people began appreciating science more than tradition .They said we're living in old age. When the whole world is going forward ,we're stayin in the past. Some clan heads took those ideas and promised to reshape the desert, to turn it into fertile land through a process they called terraforming."

He paused, his eyes darkening. "Not everyone agreed. To us, the desert was sacred a gift from the gods. To alter it was to defile it. But others were tempted by the promises of progress and prosperity. The clans split, and those who supported the machine turned against those who wished to preserve the old ways. And after various debates when nobody came to a conclusion a war broke out. The guys who supported technology started a rebellion"

The chief’s voice grew heavier as he spoke of the conflict that followed. "The wars were brutal. Brothers fought brothers, and the land was drenched in blood. The rebels, with their advanced weapons and ships, had the upper hand. They killed our chief and many of his loyal followers. Those of us who survived were driven into hiding, clinging to what little remained of our heritage."

Robin felt a pang of sympathy.

"The rebels succeeded in terraforming much of the desert," the chief said. "But the cost was immeasurable. Centuries of war followed, with neither side able to claim a true victory. Finally, a elder of the William family intervened. He brokered a peace treaty, though it was far from just. The rebels were allowed to keep the transformed lands, while we were granted this section of the river, and the only place that was untouched by the curse, our holy land protected by a spell to prevent further alteration."

He gestured to the direction of the desert he visited yesterday . "This is all that remains of our world. It is a fragment of what once was, preserved by the magic of your ancestors. We are not barbarians, as some might claim. We simply reject the technology that brought so much suffering to our people."

Robin was silent, the weight of the story settling heavily on him. He could see the pain in the chief's eyes, the pride and sorrow intertwined.

Beside him, Seraphina looked shaken. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced by a mix of disbelief and confusion.

"That’s not what we were taught," she said, her voice trembling. "We were told you were the aggressors, clinging to outdated ways and resisting progress. They never mentioned any of this."

The chief's gaze softened, but his voice remained firm. "That is the version told by those who wish to justify their actions. History is written by the victors, after all. But this is the truth miss, and it is time it was known."

Seraphina shook her head, her expression conflicted. "I… I need time to process this." She stood abruptly, her movements unsteady, and walked away without another word.

Robin watched her go, feeling a pang of sympathy. He turned back to the chief. "This is a lot for her to take in. Her beliefs have been shaken to the core. She just needs some time to process it."

The chief nodded. "I understand. It is not easy to unlearn what one has been taught all their life. But I hope, in time, she will see the truth for what it is."

Robin remained seated, his mind racing. He could see validity in both perspectives the desire to preserve heritage and the need for progress. Both were right in their own accord but Robin blamed the fate that prevented them from coming to a truce.

The chief smiled kindly, though the lines of sorrow still lingered on his face. “I’ve taken enough of your valuable time with all these useless stories,” he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. “But thank you for listening, Master Robin. Most outsiders think of us as mad, clinging to broken traditions. You’ve been patient, and for that, I am grateful.”

Robin leaned back slightly, shaking his head. “It’s alright, Chief. I appreciate hearing your perspective. Stories like these give context to a place, and understanding your history is part of why I’m here.”

The chief bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. “You are gracious. Now, I must attend my work. But please, enjoy this garden—it holds centuries of our heritage after war within its roots. This afternoon, I will personally take you on a tour. You’ll find that this place truly comes alive when our people return from their works. it’s something you shouldn’t miss.”

Robin nodded with a polite smile. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Until then, rest and explore as you like,” the chief said, standing. With a warm farewell, he turned and made his way down the path, his figure disappearing into the intricate foliage.

Robin leaned back on the smooth wooden bench, letting out a long breath as he took in his surroundings. The garden was so tranquil that it was hard not to feel at ease. Brightly colored flowers waved gently in the breeze, and the sunlight filtered through the trees painted shifting patterns on the ground. The occasional chirping of birds and the murmur of flowing water were the only sounds that broke the serene silence.

After a moment, he glanced at Oliver, who stood nearby with his usual composed demeanor. “What do you think of the chief’s story? Do you think it’s true?”

Oliver paused before responding, his face calm but thoughtful. “Mostly true,” he admitted. “Their accounts align with some historical records I’ve read. The terraforming of these lands was indeed a controversial project, and there’s evidence of conflict between the clans. However…” He hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. “The timing of sharing such a story with you, feels… deliberate.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Deliberate, how?”

Oliver’s sharp gaze met his. “I suspect this is part of a larger plan, orchestrated by the old chief—the man we met last night. He likely saw an opportunity in your visit to appeal to the William family. By sharing this tragic history, they might hope to gain your sympathy or even your favor. The William family holds great influence, after all.”

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “People truly are strange creatures, aren’t they? If you weren’t here to provide some clarity, I might’ve gotten too invested in their story, just like Seraphina.” He shook his head, a bemused smile playing on his lips. “She looked so shaken. I almost feel bad for her.”

“Understanding the larger picture is essential, Master Robin, besides they're taking the full benefits of terraforming. They made a new lifestyle which they won't admit, they're totally drifted from the root” Oliver replied, his tone respectful but firm. “The people here have endured hardship, no doubt, but their narrative is only one side of the story. While compassion is a virtue, one must also remain cautious.”

Robin nodded, grateful for Oliver’s presence. The butler’s steady pragmatism often served as a much-needed anchor in situations like these. “Well, I guess we’ll see how this all plays out. In the meantime, I think I’ll take a walk around this garden. No point in wasting such a beautiful morning.”

Oliver inclined his head. “A fine idea, sir. I’ll accompany you.”

Together, they rose and began to stroll through the expansive garden. Robin found himself marveling at its beauty as he wandered the paths.

“It’s hard to believe this place is the remnant of a desert,” Robin said aloud, more to himself than to Oliver.

“Nature has a remarkable way of adapting,” Oliver replied. “Though I imagine the magic they mentioned plays a significant role in maintaining this ecosystem.”

Robin nodded, continuing along the path. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace as he walked. It was as though the garden itself radiated calm, wrapping him in its embrace. For a while, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the sights, letting his mind drift away from the complexities of politics and history.

As he wandered, he encountered a group of children playing near a cluster of flowering bushes. They laughed and shouted as they chased one another, their joy infectious. Robin watched them for a moment, smiling to himself. Despite everything, life here seemed to hold a simple, unyielding happiness.

“Master Robin,” Oliver said, drawing his attention. “It will be some time before the chief returns. Would you like me to prepare anything in the meantime?”

Robin shook his head. “No, Oliver. I think I’ll just stay here and soak it all in. You’re free to take a break if you’d like.”

“Thank you, sir, but I’m perfectly content to remain at your side,” Oliver replied with a slight bow.

Robin chuckled. “Of course you are.”

The hours passed leisurely as Robin explored the garden. He found himself reflecting on the chief’s story and the weight of the history he had shared. It was clear that these people had endured incredible hardship, but Oliver’s words also lingered in his mind. Sympathy was one thing, but blindly aligning himself with their cause was another matter entirely.

By the time the afternoon sun began to dip toward the horizon, the garden was alive with activity. The villagers had returned from their work, filling the air with the sounds of conversation and laughter. Robin could hear the faint strains of music coming from somewhere nearby, a melody that seemed to blend seamlessly with the natural ambiance of the garden.

As he waited for the chief to return, Robin found himself feeling both curious and apprehensive about what the rest of the day would hold. This world was so different from the one he had known, yet in many ways, the people here were no different from those back home. They had their hopes, their struggles, their ambitions and their secrets.

For now, though, Robin decided to simply enjoy the moment. The garden, with its vibrant colors and tranquil atmosphere, was a haven.