After two weeks of travel, the signs of human settlements began to dwindle, indicating that Morian Forest was getting closer. The group either camped under the open sky or sought refuge in taverns whenever they stumbled upon a settlement

Cordelia couldn't help but reflect on the irony of their journey. Eighteen years ago, her adoptive parents had discovered her abandoned in the depths of the Morian Forest. According to Cordelia’s father, Eleanora, Cordelia's adoptive mother, had endured years of infertility, facing numerous miscarriages before finding Cordelia. When she finally managed to carry a baby full term, her baby didn’t draw breath and Eleanora lost hope in ever becoming a mother. In a moment of despair, Eleanora had ventured into the forest with the intention of ending her life, only to stumble upon Cordelia, a tiny infant on the brink of freezing to death beside a river. Viewing Cordelia as a divine intervention from Jurian himself, Eleanora saw it as a second chance at motherhood and brought the baby back to her clan. However, Cordelia's presence among the elves was met with resistance, particularly from the clan's shaman, who harbored a deep prejudice against humans. In addition, surely taking in a human child would still be accompanied by loss and pain due to the shorter lifespan they had compared to the elves. Despite objections from both the shaman and her husband, Aethon, Eleanora insisted on keeping Cordelia, even if it meant leaving her clan behind. Even if Aethon was against it, ultimately, his love for his wife prevailed, and he chose to stand by her side as they embarked on a new journey together, leaving behind their old life to raise Cordelia as their own.

Fate took an unexpected turn when Eleanora passed away just six years after adopting Cordelia. Suddenly, Cordelia's father found himself a widower, faced with the daunting task of raising the human child alone. Cordelia vividly remembered the fear that gripped her, worried that her father would abandon her and disappear from her life. Yet, to her relief and surprise, he remained by her side. Despite his presence, however, he kept a certain distance, perhaps to shield himself from forming too strong an attachment. Until one day it completely changed.

Following Eleanora's passing, her room became a place they avoided, its door remaining locked as a silent tribute to her memory. Then, one ordinary day after returning from the village school, Cordelia stumbled upon a rare sight where her father's grief-stricken figure kneeled amidst Eleanora's belongings, tears streaming down his face as he clutched her dresses. After realizing what was going on Cordelia silently approached and sat beside him, trying to comfort him. To her astonishment, he did not shy away but welcomed her into his embrace.

In that shared moment of mourning, Aethon's realized the depth of their loss. He had lost a wife but Cordelia, too, had lost a mother. In that realization, Aethon's attitude towards her underwent a profound transformation. No longer merely a relic of Eleanora's memory, Cordelia became, in his eyes, his own beloved daughter. From that poignant moment forward, their bond deepened, anchored by love and loss.

Little did they realize, fate had more challenges in store, and soon they would be separated once again. Cordelia's father had already endured so much loss: leaving his clan, losing his wife, and now facing the heartbreak of losing his daughter. All because they chose to raise her as their own. Cordelia couldn't shake the feeling that her very existence brought nothing but misfortune to those around her. Her village had nearly been destroyed because of her dragon soul. The dragon bound to her had been abandoned by its powerful previous mistress because of Cordelia, leaving her teachers struggling to help her summon the dragon without dying. There were moments when Cordelia wished she had never existed at all. But fate wasn’t so keen on letting her go just yet.

As the group approached the forest, the colossal trees gradually came into view, their towering forms casting sprawling shadows that stretched across the forest floor. Stepping across the threshold into Morian's ancient depths, everyone sensed a sudden shift in the atmosphere, the air heavy with an otherworldly presence that stirred the senses. With each step deeper into the forest, this veil of magic enveloped them more intensely, revealing itself in the subtle whispers of the wind and the ethereal glow that bathed the surroundings.

While other forests in Jur have harbored their own magic due to Fey and other magical beasts residing in them, Morian stood apart with its unique elven essence. Homes built inside and on trees with delicate runic carvings, enchanting lights glowing around the trees and thriving nature that almost seemed sentient. Here, in the heart of Morian, the wood elves had formed a symbiotic relationship with their surroundings: Elves would aid and nurture the forests and the wild life with their magic, in turn the forest would give them the means for their survival.

They pressed onward to the north, following the well-trodden path that was shaped by the passage of countless merchant carts over the years. Daniel and Cordelia couldn't help but admire Commander Henric's ability to effortlessly navigate through the dense foliage. Eventually, they mustered up the courage to ask him how he managed it.

He softly sighed with a faint blush beneath his beard, “My parents were missionaries from Winterberg.” Henric confessed, “They wanted to teach the fey the Arian faith. We have traveled through many forests in my youth.”

“Wow. Never figured you as the religious type, Commander.” Daniel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I am not.” Henric said with a stern tone. “In truth, I was filled with joy when the Dragon Knights took me in.”

“Really? Why?” Intrigued, Cordelia pressed on.

Henric sighed again, “It was either that, or being forcefully given to a monastery. I’d rather be a soldier than a monk.”

Talia chimed in with a playful laugh, “I don’t know. I’d love to see you wearing monastery robes.”

Henric shook his head with a slight smile at the corners of his lips, “In your dreams, darling.”

Cordelia and Daniel also chuckled. Imagining Commander Henric in monastery robes was definitely amusing.

The northern clan finally made its appearance with its denser, more shrouded tree homes. Northern part of Morian was colder, making life in these parts of the forests a bit more difficult for its dwellers. Unlike the lush greenery of the south, the trees here boasted vibrant hues of autumn, their leaves ablaze in shades of yellow and red. The chill air of the northern Morian bit against their skin, as the group approached the clan borders.

Suddenly, a small group of wood elves appeared from the shadows, bows at the ready.

“Halt!” commanded the elf before them, stopping them from going any further. “Humans are not allowed in these lands. State your business, or face our arrows.” he threatened.

Henric dismounted, gesturing for the others to follow suit. As the others also dismounted their steeds, Commander Henric put his fist on his heart and bowed politely at the elves to greet them. When he rose up he spoke with a friendly yet cautious tone.

“We are Dragon Knights from the Blazing Mountains. I believe your clan has alerted Madame Liana regarding your missing hunters.”

The elf regarded him skeptically. "Prove it," he demanded.

“What?” Henric asked.

"Prove it," the elf repeated firmly.

Henric sighed, turned back at the others and nodded at them. They acknowledged and started removing their gloves and braces to reveal the runic marks on their left arms.

Henric's runes glowed with a faint bronze hue, while Talia's golden markings shimmered against her deep brown skin. Daniel and Cordelia, too, displayed their icy blue and fiery red runes. Raising his brow, the elf turned to the other one on his left.

“Istiesâ’i khela’lôrlin.” he said.

“Siarsda’lin rahnû’da bekh’nanlin?” the other continued to regard them with suspicion, his gaze unwavering.

“Nâ. Ocvidâ ki demahron rahnu’da sê’i.” the elf in the middle answered, while pointing at their arms.

Henric looked at Cordelia curiously, wanting to understand what they were saying. Cordelia moved a bit closer to him.

“The one on the left suggested maybe we carved the runes on ourselves, but the one in the middle thinks we’re telling the truth. He said only dragons can do such marks.” She whispered.

The elves argued back and forth for a short time until the one in the middle switched back to common, “You’re free to come. But one wrong move, and we won’t hesitate to kill you.” he warned.

“Understood.” Said Henric politely. “Thank you.”

As the group followed the elves to their clan, a silence descended, heightening the tension as they approached the elven settlement. With each step, anticipation coiled tightly around them, their hearts drumming nervously. Henric and Talia led the way, while Cordelia and Daniel trailed behind them. Despite the gravity of the situation, Daniel's eyes sparkled with awe as he gestured excitedly at the surrounding architecture, seemingly the only one finding solace in the moment.

Finally, they reached the heart of the settlement, where the chief and shaman awaited them, surrounded by other elves, ready to shoot the group if they did anything suspicious. The chief, resplendent in armor crafted from bear hide and crowned with stag horn-adorned helm, exuded authority and strength. Standing beside him, the shaman exuded an aura of quiet wisdom, her attire adorned with shimmering crystals and ornate wooden bracelets. A delicate circlet of branches adorned her brow, its tear-shaped blue stone emitting a soft, ethereal glow in the dappled forest light.

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The group approached, with Henric and Talia offering respectful bows before Henric took charge once more.

"We're here about your missing hunters," he declared firmly.

The Chief and the Shaman exchanged a glance, the Shaman shaking her head in disapproval before the Chief addressed them with a hint of skepticism.

"So, Madame Liana's promises weren't empty after all," he remarked, unimpressed. "We didn't anticipate your swift arrival, if any at all. Humans have a tendency to prioritize their own kind over others."

Talia's brow furrowed, arms crossing in frustration. "And elves have a habit of making unwarranted assumptions," she retorted, her anger thinly veiled.

Henric gestured subtly for her to restrain herself, and Talia fell silent, though her lips remained pressed tightly together as if to prevent more words from escaping.

Turning back to the Chief, Henric spoke reassuringly, "Our intention is to aid your people, Chief, not to stir up trouble. Our priority is hunting monsters and nothing else."

The Chief remained silent, his gaze still wary. Finally, he took a deep breath and motioned for the other elves to lower their bows, albeit reluctantly.

Addressing them once more, he explained, "Every year, as winter approaches, we send hunting parties into the forest to prepare for the long frost. This time, the hunters didn't return. We dispatched scouts to find them, but they too vanished."

The Shaman interjected solemnly, "Except for one scout. He perished days later, but not before revealing they were attacked by the Azhar."

Henric stroked his beard, exchanging a glance with Talia. The mention of Azhar brought an ominous shift to the situation.

The Azhar were the horrifying and twisted creations of the Embrals. When the Embrals attacked, fleeing or a quick death was the only hope, for capture meant an eternity of torment. With grim mastery, the Embral Arcanists reshaped flesh and soul, stripping victims of their essence until nothing remained. From these shattered remnants, they forged monsters, twisted pawns in their relentless quest for domination. Among their arsenal, the Azhar were the favored cannon fodder, unleashed without mercy upon those unfortunate enough to cross their path.

“Well, that changes the whole situation.” Henric mused, his expression deep in thought.

“It does.” Talia concurred. “How many hunters did you send out to the forests?”

“About twenty.” the chief responded with a grave tone. “thirty if you count my missing scouts.”

Henric sighed, sharing a knowing look with Talia. “Professional hunters getting overwhelmed by mere Azhar? We might be dealing with a big horde here. Backup might be necessary.”

Talia shook her head, “If the Embrals are leading them, there might be a possibility that the hunters have been captured rather than killed. It doesn't necessarily mean there is an army of Azhar out there. We have four dragons at our command, we should assess the situation before asking for backup.”

Henric kept thoughtfully scratching his beard, weighing Talia's words. Then, he nodded and turned to the chief with a grateful smile.

“We'll look into it. Thank you for the information. We shall be making camp nearby if you need us.”

The chief raised his hand and looked at the group, “You can stay in our svehiri mieva.”

Henric directly looked at Cordelia for a translation.

“Guest house” Cordelia whispered.

Henric raised his brows, surprised by the offer “Oh! That's very kind, thank you.”

Chief scoffed, “Don't mistake it for kindness. It's easier to keep a close eye on you here, in case of any... surprises.”

Thalia let out a resigned sigh, “Just when I thought things between us were improving.”

The chief motioned for an elf to approach, and Cordelia couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity as the elf drew nearer. Though she appeared only a few years older than Cordelia and Daniel, it was difficult to guess her true age, as elves hardly ever showed their age in the first place. With brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and hazel eyes typical of wood elves, there was something about her that piqued Cordelia's interest, though she couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

The chief glanced at Henric, then turned to the girl.

“Kâ’liri svehiri mieva’i trenna.” the chief said to the girl.

“Kael, pae.” the girl nodded.

The girl approached the group as the chief spoke, “My daughter will take you to the guest house. Mind yourselves while you're staying.”

The girl politely nodded and gestured to them to follow her.

Henric thanked once more and the group started trailing behind the young girl towards the other side of the forest.

Cordelia couldn’t help but feel how much they stood out like a sore thumb as they walked among the other elves. Wood elves stood taller and stronger than the other elves of Jur, due to their adaptations living among nature. Cordelia herself wasn’t tall to begin with and compared to them it made her feel like she was walking among giants.

“Forgive my fathers rudeness. We are usually more hospitable than this. But recent times… Most people think your kind is dangerous.” the girl said, her gaze fixed elsewhere.

“And you think differently?” Talia inquired curiously.

“I think every kind can be dangerous. I may be only fifty, but I've met a lot of decent humans to know that your kind isn't all evil that Elvahin makes it out to be.” She replied.

Talia laughed, “My, oh my. Only fifty? Damn. We're the same age and I already look like I could be your mother.”

Daniel chimed in with a smile, “Don't be so hard on yourself Commander. You definitely look younger than your age.”

Talia playfully tossed her dreadlocks and turned to Henric, teasingly asking, “And what do you think, darling?”

Henric sighed and shrugged, continuing to walk, “I don't know. You always look the same to me.”

Talia rolled her eyes, jesting, “Come on. You can at least tell me I still look beautiful.”

Henric sighed once more, “I don't need words to tell you how I think.”

Daniel and Cordelia shook their heads as Talia shot them a deadpanned glance. Commander Henric was definitely bad at being a romantic, but at least he still won at being a good person.

Finally, the group arrived at the guest house, but it was nothing like they expected. Instead of a typical dwelling, it was a charming treehouse adorned with bedrolls, clearly crafted for hunters. Soft, luminescent flowers cast a gentle glow inside, while vines snaked across the wooden walls, infusing the space with a verdant and inviting ambiance.

“I'll tell them to bring something to eat. You should rest.” the girl offered kindly.

As they entered one by one, Talia scanned the room intently, then shrugged, “Well, better than sleeping in a tent I suppose.”

Daniel wasted no time tossing his backpack aside and flopping onto the nearest bedroll.

Just as Cordelia was about to step inside, a hand gripped her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. She turned to find the tall elven girl staring back at her.

“Wait.” She interjected, guiding Cordelia to face her. With a sudden motion, she reached for the red scarf tied around Cordelia's armor. “Where did you get this?” she asked as she slightly pulled the scarf.

“My mother gave it to me.” Cordelia replied.

“This… This is a Leasnarin Elvahin'i embellishment! The only way your mother could get it is if she stole it!” The girl said with anger slowly flaring in her voice.

“She didn't steal it.” Cordelia shook her head firmly. “She was one of you. A Leasnarin Elvahin'i, like yourself.”

“What? That's impossible. There is no way a wood elf-” The girl faltered, her expression shifting from outrage to disbelief. “Unless…” Her tone softened as realization dawned. “What was your mothers name?”

“Eleanora Faerondal.” Cordelia answered.

The girl's eyes widened with shock. She stepped back and shook her head in disbelief as she held onto the tree for support.

“Fate goes deeper than…” She whispered,

“...tree roots.” Cordelia finished, her arms crossed as she regarded the girl. “My mother used to tell me that.”

A slow smile spread across the girl's face. “My aunt was full of anecdotes.”

Cordelia's eyebrows shot up in realization, “Your aunt? Wait a minute-”

The girl moved closer to Cordelia and removed her own red scarf with the same wolf embroidery as Cordelia had. They were almost identical.

“Look...” the girl showed her, “The golden fox is the Everyn clan symbol. Eleanora Faerondal used to be Eleanora Everyn. My aunt and my father, Chief Ethrion Everyn's sister. I even remember seeing you as a baby… I just couldn't put the two and two together.”

Cordelia shook her head while smiling, “Hmm. Figured you looked familiar. I can see the resemblance to my mother.”

The girl excitedly jumped, “Gods… Jûr is certainly small, isn't it? My name is Meira Everyn.”

Cordelia bowed with her fist on her heart, “Mia, Cordelia Faerondal. Laitha bêkh'da.”

“Unbelievable… You even learned our tongue.” Meira whispered, still shocked at the revelation.

Cordelia was also shocked. Her head was filled with so many questions: about herself, about her adoptive parents, about the past she never knew…

Of all places, to find the niece of her mother was definitely something she did not expect.

“Cordelia, are you coming inside?” Talia called out.

Cordelia looked inside the tree house, and then turned to Meira. Before she could say something, Meira spoke first.

“We have to talk. Meet me at night, when everyone else is asleep.”