It took longer than anticipated for Aralt to respond to what he was seeing. A human male whose eyes reminded him of someone... someone he had left behind a long while ago. But he tried to focus on the present situation. Considering his options, he contemplated the optimal response. “So... To make sure I heard everything correctly, you two met killing a Pencari; albeit one of you killed your own kind. And you were rescuing humans from your own kind and... I will take a wild guess: you are bringing them back to their home?”

“That is the overall situation, yes,” Nahele stated, giving a fixed look. He holds onto his cloak, adjusting it needlessly. “And we would’ve done exactly that, but--”

“But then the Pencari came.” Aralt crossed his arms, “damned lucky that my people were in the area, and we had a debt to pay.” He glanced at the tent flap, remembering his small interaction with Kyle, and he couldn’t help from forming a small smile. Temporarily distracted, he swiftly refocused on the task at hand. “Here’s the thing. While you are pretty neutral to my tribe, I fear the humans will say otherwise. But information from you might be pretty... beneficial.” He rubbed his chin, contemplating, “for now, maybe keep that hood up. I can sense you’re not an enemy.”

Nahele nodded, doing exactly that. “You seem too easily swayed,”

“Oh, this is not because of ignorance. Let’s say I had personal relations with an elf back at my former home.” He bent forward, “how old are you?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Just a friendly question,” Aralt responded. His eyes never left Nahele’s face. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

The elf’s features etched a frown. Questions always have a motive, he thought. Whether innocent or not.

“It’s a useless one,” Stungalm’s response came in like a catapulted boulder. “So yes.”

“Remind me to never have a fuckin’ friendly conversation with you,” Aralt grumbled in return as he stood up straight. “But yeah, I don’t think anyone knows who you are, except the one that stopped me for a bit; the one who vouched for you. Something tells me he won’t tell anyone either.”

“And you easily believe that?”

“I got pretty strong sixth senses,” Aralt exhaled at Stungalm’s jeers. “I don’t need to see your face anymore, so put the mask back on.” He rubbed his temple to massage as the human returned the mask to his face. With a few circular motions on his head, the crowd outside grew louder. Abnormally louder. His body posture became rigid, preparing for the worst. “Ah shit, what now?” He asked himself as he stomped out of the tent, not realizing Nahele and Stungalm followed behind. Searching for the noise’s origin, he discovered a fresh face in the camp.

A draconic figure clad in armor, panting and sweating from an excursion, was the center of attention. The knight carried a muscular person over his shoulders, fixated at the situation at hand. A multitude of survivors; a lot more than he expected gaping at him like he came from another world. I guess technically in their view, I did...

“Dad!” Raygnar called out, waving with both arms to get his attention. The knight, hearing his son’s voice, brought relief. He jogged over and set the unconscious person on the cart. “Huon!” Kyle exclaimed, quickly spotting him.

“He’s fine, only unconscious.” The knight reassured, “Although wouldn’t hurt to have an expert check on him.”

“Dad,” Raygnar was ecstatic, giving the best hug he could. The knight was taken by surprise, but he swiftly regained composure with a laugh and mirrored the action, remarking, “Good to see you too, lad.” He looked around, noticing Mrs. Stark, “Seems that everyone here is safe and sound. Some unknown faces as well.” He ruffled Raygnar’s hair, which the recipient groaned in embarrassment. Mrs. Stark smiled warmly upon the Knight’s return. “Yes. We are glad you are safe too. We never got to thank you.”

The knight raised his hand, saying, “Anyone with heart and bravery would’ve acted likewise.” As he said that, he scanned the surroundings some more, noticing three people approaching him.

“Who are you?” Aralt demanded, giving an intense expression. Following that, he alternated between the two draconic men in front of him. Both different heights, clothes, postures... and yet faces are almost identical. Maybe excluding the hair; with Raygnar’s being a softer while the knight’s was a tad bit long, and spiked. On the other side, the hellhound’s size surprised the Knight.. He coughed, “Well, I assume you're the leader here?”

“Solely for my people, the leader of the humans are unconscious, but safe. Now, again, who are you?”

Stungalm raised an eyebrow under his mask at the draconic elves. And the one beside him sensed it. "Those are Draconic elves.” The masked human faced Nahele, his attention drawn from the conversation between Aralt and the strangers. “They lived in iTealaich and have been kicked out about thirty to forty years ago. They are considered part dragon, part elf. Impure by both race standards. They have an... extensive history which, if you want to learn, you can ask them. Also, that one other there was at the human settlement.”

Raygnar perceived the two and blinked, only familiar with Nahele by name. When they didn’t return the small wave he gave them, he slowly awkwardly turned away. He held his hands together and resumed his focus on his dad. Stungalm gazed at the strange man with sudden focus, slightly tilting his head. He carefully examined the scales on him and contemplated whether they could be naturally shed off or carved out, similar to snakes. As he examined the man further, the posture appeared somewhat feeble. He may find out in future fights, although it is yet to be proven.

“The name’s Trevor,” the knight revealed his name, “Trevor Havon, leader of the Draconic Elves. As for how I am here. Well... it’s a long story, so I will keep it short. I was summoned here by my son, and saw him and the people in trouble... you can probably finish that story up for me.”

“Summoned?” Aralt blinked, perplexed.

“Another long story.” Trevor eyed Raygnar, who gave a small grin. “I gave it to him for emergencies, which it was. And if you’re asking how I had a spell scroll, it was left behind by the people who died in the dispossession.”

Kyle, listening in to the conversation as he checked on Huon, joined in. “What’s a... spell scroll?”

“You really don’t know, boy?” Trevor questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Surely your people had some sort of knowledge.”

“Dad... they’ve been in hiding for two thousand years,” Raygnar informed. “And they can’t conjure spells.”

“Right...” His father exhaled, “Well... shit, how to explain? Hmm... It is a type of energy in this world that can be wielded by both the gifted and the talented. It enables the individual to conjure the natural elements that were made by the gods: Fire, Earth, Air, Water, Light, and Darkness. For example, the spell scroll my son had was a teleportation magic. If I remember my education, teleportation is a type of wind magic: kind of like flying and those damn force projectiles the Pencari threw at me,” he grumbled at the last sentence. “A spell scroll is mystical energy sealed up in sigils, reserved for when the time is right. It can hold the smallest of magics, like... um... hey Raygnar, can you show an example?”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

With a nod, Raygnar raised his palm and with a simple movement of his finger, a ball of light forms; like a massive firefly floating gently on top. A simple, serene orb awed some people in the crowd. “Besides the elemental categories, we have more of a... different classification for the type of magic. A sub-category called Classes. We have the Utility class magic. That is what my son conjured; a ball of light to see in the dark. Then we have offensive magic, which...” Trevor drawled out, a cue for his son.

In an instant, Raygnar’s fist moved rapidly, and a charge of crackling blue energy danced around. The audience stepped back and braced themselves, unsure of what was happening. But time passed, and nothing bad was happening, so they eased. “This is a simpler offensive magic. This is especially good for people that wear metal like me. And whoever gets shocked gives the user an opportunity to flee a little more easily. Of course, there are more formidable ones, but my people never have been one to use mystical forces... except him.” Trevor ruffled Raygnar’s head with a smile once more, met with more grumbling. “And lastly, restorative magic.” He pivoted back to who he knew now as Huon.

“You sure, Dad?” Raygnar whispered. “He didn’t seem to like me when we first met.”

“Really?” Trevor furrowed his brow. “in that case... still try to show them. I’ll be here if he tries anything stupid; or two stupid things.”

Following a few sighs, Raygnar neared the unconscious Huon and softly positioned his hand directly above the chest. A green fog appeared from the hand, enclosing the surroundings like a watery mist. It tenderly caressed as the wound grew less intense; fading away as if it never existed. After the spell dissipated, Raygnar withdrew his hand and positioned himself behind his father. Stungalm, who crossed his arms while observing all that happening, didn’t realize a smile slowly building on him as the situation progressed.

“That is the basis of magic. But, as he said before, humans cannot learn magic.”

“Why?” Stungalm emitted, causing everyone to stop and turn to him. “Why can’t they?”

Raygnar stepped forward, holding a hand to his chest to keep himself steady, and also to keep his heart beating at a steady pace. Feeling familiar with the topic, he answered, “while I cannot give an exact answer, there are many theories that have the same conclusion: your Souls.” He paused, allowing the people to whisper among themselves for a bit. It wasn’t a complicated guess that they would wonder why their souls forbade them to learn spell-casting. Once the talk quieted down, he continued. “Your souls were not built to hold magic. And if they did, it is very, very little. So little that it would be barely noticeable and could be easily dismissed. The very little you can hold, though, would be enough to say a supernatural being; or divine in nature to let you borrow said magic. But even that is almost near impossible.”

“So to clarify,” Kyle asked, “We can ‘borrow’ power from someone else... but we can never wield our own?”

“Yep.” Raygnar nodded, “That is why if you ever heard of humans that had like... say ‘psychic’ abilities or maybe abnormal strength and fortitude or not, it is most likely a ward given to you or your ancestors by an otherworldly being. However, that sort of event occurred a considerable time ago during The Gaian Collapse, and during that period, your people gradually lost faith in the gods; forging your own path and your own magic.”

“But you said we cannot cast magic.”

“I did,” Raygnar smiled at Stungalm’s rebuttal. “Here’s the thing. The mystical powers your people acquired weren’t actually supernatural. Let me give an example. The shackles you put on me? Did you realize it was not working off of magic?”

“Hold on, what?” Trevor exclaimed, “Shackles? You? Who shackled you?”

Upon becoming aware of his mistake, Raygnar stretched out both his hands. “Easy Dad, it was a misunderstanding. No need to get riled up.” He then tried to get back on topic before his dad could fully process what he had been told. “Anyway. The Shackles. It was not built of magic. Or well... a magic that is well known. Remember my dad discussing there being an elemental and class category? The classes are Utility, Offensive, and Restorative. But you humans invented a fourth category. That category which is still controversial to most of the world to this day. Remember the conversation we had Kyle when we were heading back to your settlement?”

Kyle pondered, going back to the conversation they had when they first met. His eyes then bulged. “Wait, yeah... but you said we made it up with inventions.”

“Inventions yes, I did say that. Those inventions were created by your people’s 'magic'. So that fourth category in question? It's called Science.”

----------------------------------------

Fireflies, unnaturally awake around this time, were hovering toward the trees. As they got closer, they melted into the barks, becoming one with them. Once together, the trees glowed with ethereal light, a haze that permeated from the leaves and created an area of effect around it. One by one, more and more trees began to show the same effect, forming an imperfect circle on the area the caster strategically designed. When the haze of trees met, it became a transparent wall before vanishing. Blended in with the environment, an unsuspecting outsider would collide with an invisible force, preventing entry without permission.

After completing the job, the caster, a white deer with floating orbs of light around it, felt satisfied. “That shall give them amble time,” he hummed. It closed his eyes, contemplating on the events that transpired. The mere thought of an abhorrent resolution gave no reconciliation. A fate that was not for the predators to foretell. How your people have been driven to power’s temptation, Gaia. I still don't have an answer, even after all this time...

With nothing else needing to be done, it steered left and departed from the area. But after a few steps, a meandering sphere met it; different than the ones surrounding it. The sphere moved jaggedly, in random directions, before stopping in front of the white deer. “Tokada,” the squeaky voice whined, “Where have you been? The queen’s been looking all over for you.”

The deer realized the fairy had been calling for him. It’s posture slouched, knowing what they came to ask... but needed to say it anyway. “Why would she be looking for me? I have given her plenty of playmates for her.”

“They broke though.”

Tokada’s facial features tightened, breathing through the nose as it continued walking. “That is something she has to deal with on her own. I told her I had a matter to take care of. And that is what I am doing.”

“Please, you need to do something! She is going to be so upset!”

Tokada stopped and exhaled, some orbs around him coiled toward the other. “Give her these then, now, please... I have work to do.”

The sphere then broke off, revealing a small humanoid figure with dragonfly wings. Various greeneries and flowers made up their clothes, providing warmth and protection to their hourglass-figure. They took the orb and gathered them all up, holding onto them closely with glee. After a moment, their attention shifted back to the departing deer. “H-hey! Wait up!” It flew over, trying to catch up.

Unable to halt, Tokada slowed down for the other to catch up. “Yes? What else do you need?”

“What’cha doing? I saw you put up a large obstruction! What’re you hiding?” The tiny figure landed on Tokada’s antlers, getting themselves comfortable. Tokada’s head tilted up. “Aren’t you in an urgent situation, young one?”

“I can afford to ask a question and get an answer!” The little one humphed, “What is it? Are you hiding treasure? Food? More toys?

“People.” Tokada answered plainly, “People in hiding, people in danger. From another race that is taking fate into their own hands. A fate that is not for them to decide.” Its head orbited back to where he left the magical barrier behind. “It was many years delayed since that confrontation transpired, and while I did as much as I could, it wasn’t enough. But now... it is time for me to make up for my lack of power.”

“Confrontation?” The fairy tilted her head. “Who did you have a fight with?”

“Another time, young one. For now, you need to give those orbs to Queen Leesha. And hurry before her childish impatiences run thin.”

“Right! Right!” The fairy bounced off and scampered away from Tokada, leaving as soon as they appeared. It gave the deer more breathing room as he reflected on that encounter two thousand years ago; how he barely had the power to prevent a catastrophic event... but he could only delay it with the help of other divine beings. Still remembering those haunting words from their adversary, he knew the time was getting closer. The elves’ hatred for humans was a small part of a destructive cycle, not intended to be the world’s demise. The decision is not his to make, nor the elves.

It then remembered a man; someone who had forsaken his safety to find his friend. How his soul could listen to him. And how it gave him the comfort of his friend rescued from unnecessary injustices. Maybe, it pondered, maybe I found someone capable... but for now, it is not the time. He needs to focus on his people. I’ll return when it’s appropriate. Grow stronger Ronan, for your people’s struggles are beginning. With that internal statement, it proceeded to a nearby tree. Tokada entered inside, disappearing without a trace, as the tree’s roots opened up, inviting the divine being in. Once inside, the tree closed itself; as if nothing had transpired.