Dawn was just breaking, the horizon bathed in deep blues and soft grays. They emerged from the dense forests, boots crunching against the dew-laden grass of a clearing. Behind them, the oppressive darkness of the foliage gave way to serene twilight stretching over the hills and mountains. The world seemed suspended in time, caught between night and day.

Larin halted, his gaze following the glow of Tlangthar in the distance. This city was like a constellation formed into flesh from here, the thousand lights winked softly above the pre-dawn haze. The Chhawihfa, passive, otherworldly orbs set in each abode, twinkled like stars in their own sky. These will-o'-the-wisps were harmless, light glowing softly within lives without disturbing nature.

For Larin, it was solace, something that kept his roots intact. For Tlangthar was a city, not just a part of his being but rather a part where his identity came with the skin and flesh that belonged to earth and its citizens. Myrith, watching beside him, saw something that was different than what he remembered—a sleeping city in perfect harmony with nature. The green life of the Xiaxoans was alive even from afar, salving her wandering mind. Practical Lysara looked at this city in ways different from one another. This was Tlangthar, one of those demonstrations of how easy it was for people to pack up and begin anew without disturbing the land so much.

Tlangthar was an engineering marvel: three cities entwined in a natural setting. The houses themselves were trees that took solar mana and stored it in the reserves to feed the city. The buildings could be disassembled and reassembled in a week if need be. This living in harmony with nature was part of the Xiaxoans-a lifestyle that spoke to their respect for the land and preparedness to survive, come what may.

The trio moved through the outskirts of the city in silence, each lost in their thoughts. The events of that night settled with them—the encounter with the Dryad, the realization concerning Uncle Ted's nature, and the reminder how powerless even mighty civilizations could feel under Sinlung's silent might. And so they all just walked back home, lost in their thoughts, this one silence showed them a need to really mull over everything they saw on that night as it grew dark.

Lysara and Myrith went into the quarters, space that Xiaxoans had given over to receive them as hospitality. The quarters were plain but perfectly functional and well-designed for the elements of nature and magic to keep it at a right temperature for comfort. Lysara darted directly into the shower, her strides surprisingly fast-paced. The shower was a feat of self-balancing technology-a must for those who needed varied aquatic climates that the Auquans thrived in.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Myrith stayed in the small kitchen, her movements purposeful as she made a hot soup. She picked up a clear, glass-like canister from the counter, filled it with water, and set it to heat. Her hands moved deftly, dropping in fragrant herbs and spices, their aromas filling the room immediately. Among the ingredients was a handful of rice—a gift from the Xiaxoans, grown and harvested with care. Myrith stirred the mixture, watching grains swirl in the bubbling water, her mind elsewhere.

"What a day," Myrith whispered, her voice breaking the silence. "Thank the Sublime we survived."

From the shower, Lysara's voice echoed faintly. "We should report this to our secure channels. The Seafoam must know what we've encountered here. Deals might be struck, alliances forged."

Myrith leaned against the counter, lost in thought. "What do we have to give to Sinlung?" she mused aloud. "This place. it's nothing like any other we've seen. The power here, is it primal or is it a manifestation, we have been assigned to two hundred worlds and this is a first. They don't need us, Lysara. If anything, we're the ones who should tread carefully.".

Lysara's reply came, her voice sharp but thoughtful. "For now, we wait and observe. The other Auqua houses have their ideologies, and diplomacy isn't always their first instinct. If this had been Pyrestone, there might not have been a conversation at all-only war.".

Myrith nodded, but Lysara couldn't see her. "True. But the way ahead won't be easy. Opening trade, establishing relationships-it's a long game. And not all will see the merit in restraint."

Steam rose from the canister as Myrith filled two bowls from the finished soup. She carried those to the low table in the room's center. She set it down for Lysara, who emerged from her shower a short time later, her hair sodden, the glow of her bioluminescence not bright but steadier.

Lysara took her seat, the warmth of the soup a welcome comfort after the night's chill. "Sinlung is a sleeping giant," she said after a moment. "What we've seen tonight is only a fragment of its potential. If the other houses understood what we've encountered, they'd be scrambling to lay claim to it—or destroy it."

Myrith's gaze was distant as she sipped her soup. "The Dryad was more powerful than any Cosmic Magi I've ever met. Even the council members back home… they wouldn't stand a chance against her. And she wasn't even the strongest in Sinlung. We only have 3 Conceptual magi in our council, each for every house. What does that tell you?"

Lysara's face clouded. "It says we're standing at the edge of something far greater than we comprehend. And that we have to tread very, very carefully.".

For one final time, the room was quiet except for the soft clinking of spoons against the bowls. A heavy blanket covered them with the weight of what they had found. They came to Xiaxo as emissaries and explorers seeking to make sense of a strange land and its people. Now, however, they knew that they were standing at the crossroads of something much larger-a world whose secrets could rewrite everything they had ever thought they knew.

All they could do now was wait and observe as the lessons of the night burnt themselves into their minds. The future of their mission, perhaps much more, would depend upon what decisions they'd make in the days to come.