Leaves rustled as a light breeze blew down the grassy highway. Sarah savoured the chill against her face, and the refreshing scent carried by the wind. The grass was soft underfoot, providing a springy surface that made walking a joy. By Stanley’s reckoning, they had made good time. Despite that, there was something in the air or the ground that sapped their weariness away, and they woke up each morning feeling refreshed.

“Elven witchcraft,” Stanley had called it every morning since they’d arrived at the Heart of the Forest.

Sarah walked over to one of the pools that seemed to occur naturally at intervals along the strip of grass. It was fed by streams and the water was cool and clear and drinking it seemed to give them energy and satiate their hunger. She dipped her hands in the water and felt a familiar jolt of electricity run through her.

“Enjoying Varuna’s nourishing water?” there was a hint of mischievous humour in the voice as it rang through her head.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Sarah replied, “It is very refreshing.”

“I take it you do not know the history of the Highway and the water you are drinking,” the voice remarked.

Sarah let the water slip from between her fingers as she felt her panic rise. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” the voice replied, its amusement growing, “It’s just that the Highway was used to send human slaves from Effulian to the farmlands of Fondir and Mithia. The water was just a means to feed them. The elves would be most amused to see how much you’re enjoying yourself now.”

“That means nothing to me,” Sarah replied evenly, “The slavery of humanity has been lost to all but the annals of history.”

“It was the zenith of the Elven Empire of Effulian,” the voice remarked, “You would do well to remember that.”

“Are you hearing voices again?” Stanley asked.

Sarah nodded.

“Why don’t you ask it how much longer it’ll take to arrive at Findendor?”

“He says that we should arrive tomorrow or the day after,” Sarah replied.

She noted the uneasy look on the gaunt face and added, “As soon as we see the city, I will consider your promise kept. We can part ways then.”

Stanley smirked and looked around. “Where would I go, exactly?”

When Sarah couldn’t think of a reply, he shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I’m with you to the end. Not that I mind, I’d always wanted to see Effulian when I was a lad.”

“Speaking of which,” he continued, “Didn’t John always want to see the elf lands?”

“He did,” Sarah said quietly and brushed away a tear.

“I’m sorry if I touched a nerve,” Stanley began apologetically.

Sarah shook her head. “No, it’s not… you didn’t do anything wrong.”

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She took a deep breath and began walking down the highway, praying fervently that a way to seal the other presence existed in Findendor. Asking the voice could have saved her precious time, but she didn’t trust him yet. Stanley followed her wordlessly.

The next day, white spires appeared over the treetops in the distance. They were overgrown with vines, and their purple roofs had crumbled in places, but they were the first they’d seen of their destination.

“I thought that place was obliterated,” Stanley breathed.

“Perhaps that is all that remains,” Sarah remarked.

Stanley came to a sudden halt and in a flash, his bow was in his hands and an arrow ready in its string. Sarah kept her senses honed on the trees in front of her. She hadn’t detected anything, but she trusted that Stanley had.

“Stay your hands, humans,” came a melodic voice. The voice echoed in their ears and made it difficult for them to discern where it had come from. “We come in peace.”

Sarah jumped as a pair of elves materialised in front of them. Both carried a bow across their back, but no weapon in their hands.

“The Water Speaker sent us to escort you to him,” one of them said. His voice had a lyrical lilt to it that left Sarah wanting to hear more, and there was that strange green fire in his eyes, leaving Sarah to wonder why some elves had it while others didn’t. “He is waiting for you in Findendor.”

Sarah and Stanley exchanged looks.

“What does he want with me?” Sarah blurted.

Irritation flashed across the elf’s face, as though personally insulted that Sarah dare question him. At length, he replied, “He said only that he wishes to help you fulfil your desire.”

Sarah arched an eyebrow. “He knows my desires?”

The elf pressed his lips into a thin line and a vein throbbed in his forehead. “He knows many things,” was all he would say before turning around and setting off down the grassy road. He muttered something to his companion who sneered at them.

“Arrogant buggers,” Stanley remarked.

He had said it out loud, and the elves, for their part, showed no indication that they’d heard him. They set a brisk pace, and Sarah had to break into a light jog to keep up. Their pace did not relent even when the city built on an island in the middle of a vast lake came into view. Its buildings were built from pure white stone which was overgrown by vines and creepers and suffered no visible damage other than erosion from the passage of time. The grassy highway continued over a rock formation that didn’t look natural, nor like anything the hands of man could create, leading straight into the city.

“I thought the city was supposed to be destroyed,” Stanley breathed, “but look at it.”

“It’s magnificent,” Sarah agreed, taken in by the haunting beauty. It was clear that it had been abandoned for many years, but there was no sign as to why. As the two elves led them across the bridge, Sarah became aware that they were being watched from the white wall that encircled the city. There were elves manning them, clad in armour that glittered under the late afternoon sun.

More elves stood before the gates of the city standing in perfect rows across the breadth of the bridge. These carried tall shields and were armed with glaives. The double doors of the gate behind them stood over a hundred feet tall and were made from pure white wood reinforced with silver. Their escorts came to a halt before an elf wearing a tall, peaked steel helmet. They saluted by placing their right arm across their chest and bowing.

“We have brought the Water Speaker’s guests as ordered,” one of them announced.

The captain eyed them coldly. The green fire was intense in his eyes. Far more so than any of the others. “Grant them entry.”

At their captain’s order, the other elves parted way smartly, forming two neat rows. The doors swung open silently. The captain cocked his head and grunted dismissively.

“Real hospitable, this lot,” Stanley remarked as they followed their two escorts into the city.

They led them down a grassy avenue past quiet purple-roofed stone buildings that looked delicate yet sturdy at the same time before coming to a stop at a small pond that was fed by streams coming from elsewhere in the city. Sitting on the edge of the pond was a halfling who was bathing his feet in the water. Sarah felt a surge of rage from the other presence as soon as she set eyes on him.

He turned around as they approached and smiled impishly. “Ah, Agni’s Chosen.”

Sarah’s heart raced and their escorts shot her murderous looks.

“Welcome to Findendor,” the halfling beamed impishly, “I am Gareth Thompson. The elves call me the Water Speaker. It is their term for Varuna’s Chosen.”