Frelf the elf picked mushrooms whilst on his stroll through the enchanted woodland, with two thick legs of a goat slung over his arm. The great guardian basilisk of the wood, Nilgad, lay long and white along the path, and greeted Frelf with a bow, and hissed him a fine day. Moss hung at his chin and insects crawled within it. The grand serpent had but a few days ago risen from his millenia-slumber. Each movement brought with it a crunch of ancient bones and a thousand dry twigs.

"Good day, Nilgad," Frelf said to the creature, whose head was perched three feet above his own, "good to see you again. I hear your slumber was well."

"Indeed it was, elf-friend," hissed the snake, "I trust you've kept the peace in your tribe for the past thousand years."

"Indeed I have. Can't stay and talk, dear friend. I'm collecting mushrooms for tonight's celebration."

Nilgad pointed Frelf in the direction of the finest mushrooms this century. Frelf already knew this - it was along the way to the cave - but thanked Nilgad for his courtesy. Both snake and elf nodded and so both departed.

Frelf, on his journey to the thriving mushrooms, encountered a tengu in a tree, eating an apple. The man's wings were large and brown, held firmly tucked at his back. "Ho there!" He called down, waving with the half-eaten apple in hand.

Frelf smiled. "Hello there, sky-brother. How fairs the clouds?"

"The skies speak bright on this day and the days to come, forest-dweller!"

The tengu were an amiable lot, never had anything bad to say of any creature, and always brought with them good news even on the worst of days. This tengu, by the name Rengu, brought news of a griffon at a mountain peak.

"Oh yes!" Frelf said, "it is that time of year. Thank you for the warning, friend. I shall heed it well."

And it so happened that, two dozen paces after departing from the tengu's company, Frelf heard the distant squawk of a griffon and saw a shadow quickly pass at his feet, from the east and to the west it sailed. Towards my real destination, he thought, I trust he'll be fine.

Frelf picked another fine mushroom at a tree root and pocketed it. After doing so, he became aware of a presence. He looked up to study the antlered skull of an elk crowning the tree. He took a couple steps back in surprise. It wasn't a tree, but a Leshy, the lords of this wood, beings of flesh and forest. "I beg your pardon, my lord," Frelf said with a bow.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The Leshy said nothing, for they bore a silent tongue. It looked at Frelf with those empty holes in its skull, and removed its long, thin hands from its shoulders and walked away. With each slow, lumbering step came the sound of snapping branches in its long legs. Similar noises rose from behind Frelf. He turned and saw three other Leshies following the first. He bowed as they passed, apologising profusely for disturbing their slumber.

At long last, Frelf the elf heard the steady rising rumble of water. His heart was relieved and his step quickened. He was getting rather tired of carrying those legs.

He came upon the small valley, water crashing onto rocks and flowing into a small river. There was no sight of the creature, there seldom was, and Frelf feared every time that that had meant it had ran away. The poor thing couldn't survive it out there.

Water splashed up at Frelf as he ascended the rocky path behind the waterfall and entered the small cavern. He smiled upon seeing his fear had not come to pass. "Hello there, little one," Frelf said to the dragon.

The creature's pupils widened and it ran over to him as fast as it could with its three remaining legs. Frelf's smile was warm as he knelt down and patted its head. The scales were beginning to solidify as it entered maturity. It sat before him and bowed nobly, eyes closed. Such a dignified creature. A shame we don't accept them back in the village. The dragon stretched one wing and the tattered remains of the other. An even greater shame this sweet little beast will never brush the clouds.

The dragon's eyes widened as it caught the scent of the legs slung over Frelf's shoulder. The elf smiled and went back outside the cavern, beckoning the dragon to follow. It did, less hesitantly each day. Frelf didn't even have to hold the food out to encourage it anymore. It just followed. Though, its three legs still struggled with the rocky steps.

Once outside Frelf threw the young beast one leg. It was gone in but a moment. Then he threw the other. Frelf knelt down again and petted its head. He would stay with it as it played among the clearing and call it back should it venture too far.

With nothing else to do, Frelf counted the mushrooms: more than a dozen in total. They can't be angry about that, he thought. Then he brought out his ocarina and began to practice a soothing melody for the water. The music guided his heart into another realm. It didn't even matter that the melody was incomplete; it ebbed and flowed to the shape of the scenery surrounding him. Peace was at his centre. Music was gifted to the elves in the days of their creation. Given to them from their gods for them to give to the world.

He opened his eyes - didn't even realise they were closed, in fact - and saw something he would never have expected to see in all his three thousand and eleven years.

The young dragon was drinking from the river...with a unicorn next to him.

"A unicorn. By god..." Frelf the elf muttered, "I didn't know they existed. No one will believe this."