Chapter 3.1: Who's your Daddy?

“…Alfin! Hey… Alfin psst!!!” Mist hissed into the clear water surface of the puddle she had created. She had found a natural crevice in the roots of a sequoia tree and had used it as a receptacle for the water.

It was a clear and crisp night; so moonlight was filtering through the foliage allowing her to vaguely make out her own features in the water. No Aflin though – the puddle that he had used to communicate with her from Amirav was empty, the water had been drained by the sequoia and so, she was left to face the objective of her quest alone. ‘Why that little… When I… Oh he’s… Agh… Alfin!!!!’

She muttered a string of curses directed at him and tried to calm down and take stock of her surroundings. She was deep in the woods and further away from Amirav than she had ever been this far in Royal Road. That wasn't a hard thing to do. Until one week ago she hadn’t even left Amirav.

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Mist had spent the last nine months happily and diligently reading the books in Amirav’s library. She had taken preciously few breaks and as a result her intelligence and wisdom had elevated to staggering proportions. When the restrictions imposed on new users for leaving the village were lifted, she didn't notice - or care. She had kept reading.

When the last users who had started out in Amirav, the limit of 50 users had been quickly filled, left – she didn't notice - or care. She barely knew any of the other users and aside from passing a few in the market as she bought some food she hadn’t interacted with them at all. She had shunned the idea of dealing with people that existed beyond Royal Road.

Although Mist had incredible wisdom and intelligence stats, all of her other stats were abysmal. She hadn’t leveled up much in the past nine months. The cumulative EXP points she had gained from the quests given to her, mostly by Alfin, had eventually added up and allowed her to rise to a paltry level 13. She had used all of the 60 stat points she had gained from those levels towards agility. By reading she was greatly increasing her wisdom and intellect. She didn't see any reason to raise her strength. She didn't think luck would do her any good. So she invested them all in agility - in the hope that she could finish the quests Alfin gave her quickly and get back to her books.

Through all of her reading she had also gained the concentration stat. It improved sporadically as she read along with her wisdom and intelligence stats.

Concentration: Ability to keep focused when performing a task. Allows skill to be performed with a greater chance of success. Stats cannot be assigned and will go up depending to your actions.

She had gone through an incredible amount of information. By reading non-stop she was able to gain a vast knowledge of Royal Road and its complex machinations. The reading had often led her to daydreams of adventure. These she had quickly clamped down though. She couldn't actually be part of an adventure could she? All she could do was read about them.

She had been happily reading about the conquests of a human bard in the High Elf’s Court when a girl had walked into the library one week ago. This was slightly shocking to Mist who had never seen anyone other than Moark or Alfin in the library. Secretly she thought of them, her included, as the three musketeers. Most of her time she spent with Alfin as he was usually busy reading or doing whatever it was that Alfin did when he wasn't reading in the library.

Sometimes Alfin left and she would be left alone for hours. She didn't take much notice of the solitude. The books were her companions, and even when chatty Alfin was there – he respected her space when she was reading, which she greatly appreciated. So it wasn't that much of a difference when he wasn't present. Unbeknownst to her though, Alfin’s talkative, easygoing and optimistic attitude had rubbed off on her a bit over the months and she was beginning to enjoy his company. It was the first time she had enjoyed another’s company in… well… forever.

And so it happened that Mist had found herself alone in the library when the girl had walked in. Still reeling from the shock of seeing an elf, other than Moark or Alfin in the library, Mist sat gaping as the girl readily approached Mist. She was a slender thing, all legs and arms, the thing that set her apart from all other Midnight elves she had met though was her hair. Unlike the other elves of Amirav who were all indisputably Midnight elves with their pale skin and stark black hair, this girl seemed paler, translucent even. Her hair was a fine yellow so bright that it could almost pass as white in right light. Her most striking feature though was her eyes, the lightest shade of blue imaginable that contrasted to the thin dark blue border of her iris.

The girl had a regal air about her as she walked up and quietly asked, “Are you Mist?”

Mist wasn't actually surprised that the girl knew her name, everyone in town did. She was however surprised that she had never seen the girl before. She thought she knew all of the villagers, there weren’t that many and Alfin had had her write biographies for all of them in the first couple of months. Alfin was adamantly trying to mold her into a proper scribe, even as she – the subject – was adamantly trying to refuse.

As a result of the copious research she had to put into the biographies she wrote, she knew the villagers’ stories well. None of them included this girl.

‘Who is she…’

“Yes, I am… And who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?” Mist enquired. The last nine months had done a great deal to improve her speaking skills. ‘Don’t rush… People say less when the questions are too specific…’

“My name is Delianis, but my friends call me Delia…” She looked at Mist shyly. Though not completely breaking the regal air that surrounded the girl, that look reassured Mist that the girl was just that… just a girl.

Mist returned her smile.

-“Do you… can you… can we… can I be your friend?”

“Of course! … Delia.”

Delia broke into an ecstatic smile. “Oh that’s just grand! Papa said you know lots and lots of stories. Will you tell me one?”

‘Papa? Who is her father and how does he know her… It was obviously someone from the village… but who?’

“Of course I will tell you one. Will you tell me who told you about me in turn?” Mist asked.

-“Ummm… I am not supposed to. Actually I am not supposed to even be here. But I wanted a friend and there are no children my age for me to play with so I had to come find you. I know you are a little older, I am eight, but we can still be friends right?”

‘Now that I think about it… There aren’t any children in Amirav. How strange… I wonder why that is…’ The youngest person she knew was Heron, the grocer, and Hora, the baker’s, daughter Aklavi – and she had just turned 20 a couple of days ago.

Returning her focus to the girl Mist responded gently, “Of course Delia…” Seeing as how Delia seemed distressed about being found out, Mist decided to soothe her with a story. She briefly considered telling her about the bard she had just been reading about. She quickly discarded that and decided to tell her stories about her childhood’s favorite… Harry Potter. ‘You haven’t had a childhood until you’ve met Harry Potter. Even though… when you think about it… he’s a bit of a selfish, self-centered prick.’

That day she had spent hours telling Delia about Ron, Hermione and Harry. Delia loved them all. Alfin had been absent the whole time, which wasn't unusual. At some point though, Delia got up from the chair she had been sitting on, brushed down her dress and announced that she must leave. She had a sad look in her eyes that almost broke Mist’s heart.

Remembering her calligraphy skills, she took out one of the blank books that Alfin had taught her how to make and bind. She had learned a lot in the last months, she hadn't really noticed as the skills had been very slowly piling up. But she was quite accomplished at leather binding and thus tailoring, since tailoring was a pre-requisite for dealing with book-binds. She had learned how to make quills, though hers were more than lacking compared to Alfin’s masterpieces. The one thing she had, surprisingly, turned out to be good at was making ink. She liked making them with different colors and even scents.

In order to take the grim look off of Delia’s face, Mist used the objects and tools she had created to transcribe some of Harry Potter into the book. She wrote in quick and neat strokes that she had mastered through her ordeals with the village biographies. She took very few artistic liberties – she had never been good at coming up with her own stories. The only thing she did change was Dumbledore’s appearance. She didn't know if Moark was, as Mist suspected, Delia’s father so she changed him a little.

Her Dumbledore became small and slightly pudgy. He was still old and he still had his half-moon spectacles, but he was bald on the top of his head with little sprouts of hair still covering the sides and back of his head. She was very detailed with the description of the wizard. Giving him a large nose, a crooked posture and a large wooden staff that towered over his diminutive features. Pleased that this Dumbledore was nothing like Moark, she continued writing out the rest of the story.

As she was writing she imagined what it would be like to attend Hogwarts as a student…

Suddenly the scene that she had been depicting on paper appeared before her eyes and she was in Hogwart’s dining hall. There were four tables lining the rooms, banners for the different houses… just like in the books, just like she had pictured it… the image lasted for about five minutes and then immediately vanished.

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Skill: You have learned Book Immersion: Allows you to place an illusion around your opponents. Duration ranges from 1-5 minutes depending on circumstances and quality of work. This skill is limited to your profession. Mana Cost: 100.

Delia, who had been standing next to her smiling the whole time like it was the most natural occurrence in the world to be in Hogwarts said, “I liked that place. That’s where Ron and Hermione are right?”

‘So she’s seen this skill before… The only person he knew who shared his profession was… Perhaps Delia’s father wasn’t Moark, seeing as she hadn’t been fazed by what just happened it seems quite likely that Alfin is her father… That seems hard to believe though… I mean that man is here most of the time… Well… he isn’t now… So maybe… Ahhh!! So many questions…’

Delia was looking at her expectantly… ‘What did she say again… Oh, right: Ron. Hermione.”

“Yeah, that’s right…”

Mist was still reeling when Delia urgently pressed, “You have to finish it quickly. I have to go now. I won’t be able to come back for some time I don't think. It’s hard to get away. So please write it quickly… I want to know what happens to Ron and Hermione…”

Mist forced herself to sit down and quickly finish writing the story out. Before the ink had even dried on the last sentence ‘All credit for this work goes to J.K. Rowling as she is the mastermind behind this work of art. I am merely serving my duties as a scribe’, Delia was picking up the book and rushing out the door.

She seemed to catch herself and turned around with a big smile plastered across her face. ‘This kid is really strange. From regal to girly in two seconds flat – this dual personality… it’s got to be Alfin. But Alfin… I just don't see how…’

Delia waved from the doorway and half-shouted across the room, “I’ll come back as soon as I can! I promise!” And then she was gone.

Soon thereafter, when Mist had barely recovered from Delia’s whirlwind visit, Alfin came back. Mist eyed him speculatively trying to find similarities between him and Delia. She couldn't find any. Although Alfin’s hair was already speckled with gray, he still had that shock of black hair that was attributed to the Midnight race.

She was about to ask him about Delia when Alfin beat her to it saying, “I heard you have made an interesting acquaintance today. Moark says she greatly appreciated the gift you made her.”

‘Moark?… does that mean? And why do they all know each other and talk behind my back… Not cool. So not cool. This detective stuff is getting on my nerves why can’t they just come out and say it!?’

“Who is Delia?” Mist asked.

-“She is Miranis’ daughter.”

‘Miranis… Miranis… Where have I heard that before. I am sure… Oh!”

“You mean she is the High Elf’s Queen’s daughter!? But the records say she didn't have a daughter! She ran off with that bard… wait did they? Is Delia half human then?”

-“She is.”

“Why is she here then? Where is her father? Where is Miranis?”

-“They are not available. Moark and I are.”

‘I guess that explains the Papa… but… you little piece of… You talk and you talk and you talk… and you don't shut up. And when for once, I do need you to talk you’re as close-lipped as a mouse…’

“Well what does that mean then? Shouldn't she take over? I mean the High Elf’s Court is about to break into mayhem. They don’t have an heir with a proper claim to the throne. All the races are battling for higher representation…”

‘Just thinking about the possible ramifications is making me dizzy. And she’s half human… Oh this is going to be trouble... The elves are not happy about the recent influx of humans into the continent... It's just natural that most users choose a human avatar... but still... trouble...’

While all of this was going through her head, Alfin seized her up and said, “It seems you have acquired a new skill. It is finally time for us to begin your real training. You must keep reading of course, but the knowledge you have gained so far will prove more than sufficient. Weren’t they lovely? The books I chose for you? They were carefully selected you know? From thousands and thousand and thousands… millions even. Yes millions! I went and chose the most appropriate books for the foundation of knowledge I wanted my one and only beloved pupil to have…”

‘Aaaaaand he’s back!”

- “… so now it is time for the real training to being. With book immersion you will be able to escape any foe. You see our class was never meant to get its hands dirty… with anything other than ink that is… we work best as puppeteers. Masterminds. Sideline commentators. Stage directors. By seeing the whole picture, we are able to guide those around us and take advantage of their skills to the best of our potential. No one person can master all trades… but if each person masters one, and you are the master of those masters… do you understand what I am saying?”

“I am useless in combat. Run away with the illusion thingy. Find strong people to hide behind. Got it.” Mist replied.

Alfin looked vaguely amused as he said, “Well yes, that is certainly one way of looking at it. But before any of this can happen you must test yourself. You must be able to avoid any type of danger. You must escape at all costs. You are never to engage in battle directly as that would most certainly result in your death. So, I have prepared a mission for you. All of us must go on our first missions and you have been cooped up in this mossy old nest for far too long. It is time for you to soar little birdy…”

‘… birdy!?’

“… and you know how it is with those humans from Kallamore. They share our border and instantly think they have the right to enter Siradin. Preposterous I tell you! Preposterous. Usually we just lead them back to where they came from and they stay, but this particular human has invaded our borders again and again and again. How many times does a person have to get turned away for them to understand they are unwelcome? And well… I don’t understand why but the forest has decided to grant him an audience. It is a shame, but the forest knows more and sees more than I ever will so I will of course reserve my judgment. You are to go and fetch the human and bring him back here. I know you like spending time with me...

'I do?'

"...and I like spending time with you too Mist but it is not right for a beautiful..."

'Riiiight. And pigs fly... Haha! They probably do in Royal Road!'

"...young woman like you to coop herself up in this old mess. I will miss you when you are gone. But I know you will be back soon. Use this water from the Spirit Tree’s spring to contact me when you reach the human. I will confirm that he is indeed the right human. Usually there aren’t many humans who wander far into the forest, they are the smarter ones… this one however has been repeatedly invading the depths of the forest… he should not be hard to find. The trees react to a foreign presence in the woods, if you listen to them, they will lead you to the humans. At least the trees understand that the humans are unwanted… now if the forest would just…”

Mist stopped listening as the quest window popped up.

Finding Perpetrator

A young man has invaded the deep forest of Siradin. You must leave immediately and track him down. The forest requires his presence. Contact Alfin when you have located the perpetrator. Further instructions will be provided.

Difficulty: D

Requirements: Spirit Tree Water. Illusion-type skill.

Warning: The forest of Siradin is a dangerous place and you are no match to the beasts that roam within it. Do not engage unless you have a death wish.

Chapter 3.2

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For those of you that do not want to do the math: this part takes place 3 months (Royal Road time) before Foot logs on to Royal Road.

Spoiler :

The time frame in which Tork got lost... obviously. I mean... I never said it was Tork - but it should be pretty obvious...

Thanks for reading ppl!

Also: I do not like Harry Potter and I have only read two of the books. But I thought it was something most people would know.