On their way to the Dwarven Kingdom, the Librarian coached Illithar on how to act before the dwarves, mostly about how to ask them for aid. The Hammer will be given right away and help must be asked for. But the way she must go about asking must not be too desperate. The dwarves would be thankful but not so thankful as to immediately throw themselves into war against the orcs. After all, the dwarves have survived this long because they avoided conflict, instead choosing to hide deep in their underground cities.
And who could blame them, the outside world fell apart, but the earth was safe. There, the Crystallum of Agleon protected her against both fiends and demons. But since they are weak above ground, the Crystallum stayed below and so did the dwarves, sealing the entrances to the surface. Thus, they were saved and the world above fell to the Calamity.
As such, their mindset would be one to maintain the very thing which ensured their safety, which would mean that even if they got the Hammer of Thavrar, they may refuse to help. Erwin and the technology of his world could also help with this, bolstering the confidence of the dwarves with new technology to wage war against the orcs. As such, it was best to start out small, first ask just for the production of weapons, so that the Alliance can better face the orcs on equal ground.
That was what the Librarian advised she secure first, military aid would be nice but not something to be immediately achieved. After all, they could not afford to alienate the dwarves. If immediately asked to fight alongside the Alliance, the dwarves who are known to hold tradition and history paramount to all other things, they may just refuse to help and return to isolation.
Of course, this sparked a slew of questions, the greatest of which was, “What is tradition?”
To an elf like Illithar who was born in the years after the Calamity, born with no memories of the ancient tradition of her ancestors and with no parents or elders to teach her, she was woefully ignorant of it. All she knew was life at the orphanage, spending her days raising the children, never once giving thought to her past other than to ask what it was like.
And it was because of that fact that the Librarian's answer intrigued her so.
"Tradition is a people's history, a sort of memory of the notable things they have done in the past."
“Then what about elves, do we have a history?”
The Librarian nodded.
“Of course, you are an elf whose traditions are as old as the ancient trees of your home, although with the arrival of the Calamity, many of those trees were burned and many elves were slain.”
Hearing that, she asked, “Do you... Do you know about my people's history?”
The Librarian answered, “Of course, although it may be slightly outdated. But, you will have to pay a price.”
She gulped but this time, her eyes were filled with determination as she said, “What do I need to pay.”
Nodding his head in approval, the Librarian said, “Yes, that is the attitude you need, you must be willing to pay. As for the price, your sight, hearing, smell, and touch; for they combined with your long life shall sense far more things than history can provide. Or, you live a life of solitude, living only with yourself and the memories of your people.”
Illithar faltered upon hearing those words, she had been naive to think that the price for her people’s history was cheap, no, it was worth far more. But the price demanded of her was too drastic, she couldn’t pay.
So, with her head held down, she could only say, “Then... I guess I must remain ignorant.”
The Librarian patted her on the shoulder.
“Well, just because you cannot learn it from me does not mean it is lost forever. Perhaps one day, you will learn from another.”
Illithar looked at him.
“Really?”
The Librarian nodded.
“Of course, after all, not even I know everything that there is to know.”
At that, Illithar fell silent, wondering again about the Librarian’s identity. Just who was he? Now that she had spoken with him, the feeling of divinity had long since faded, while he was different, she no longer felt that he was... alien. Was he once an inhabitant of this world? Where did he come from? Were there others like him?
She was very curious indeed, but still, she never asked him. As for why, perhaps she felt that it would be impolite or she might’ve been afraid of the price for the answers. Whatever the reason, she kept silent, staring at the distant shoreline before she decided to retire for the night.
With the passage of a few months, the ship that had been moving without pause since the beginning of its journey came to a stop. With his eye set on the shoreline, the Librarian created a gate, one large enough for Erwin’s tank to pass through. Within moments, all three were on land once more, with the Librarian dismissing the ship with a wave of his hand. As the ship began to disintegrate into dust which soon disappeared into thin air, the Librarian turned his back and pointed to a mountain off in the distance.
“That is our destination.”
Erwin nodded, saying, “I shall prepare the cannon to blast through the forest.”
The Librarian held up a hand.
“No, this forest is old enough to have dryads so I may be able to negotiate with them.”
Erwin nodded and remained in his tank, however, Illithar’s curiosity was peaked.
“Dryads?”
As the Librarian walked towards the treeline, she ran to catch up, repeating the question.
As they walked, the Librarian said, “I think you can ask them yourselves.”
Confused, Illithar directed her gaze in front of her and her eyes widened to see three beautiful women standing before her, their skin a light green, each clad in dresses of emerald with leaf designs and a white inlay. The dryad at the center possessed jet black hair while the two flanking her possessed brown hair, their glowing white eyes studying the Librarian and Illithar.
The Librarian stopped about five feet in front of them, nodding his head to the dryads which also bowed. Confused, Illithar only stood there, watching the dryads, her curious eyes taking in every detail. However, when her eyes met with the black-haired dryad’s, she froze, lost in the white depths of her eyes. Suddenly, something touched her shoulder and she gave a start, finding that it was the Librarian.
He said, “Careful now, it’s best that you don’t look too closely.”
Illithar nodded and kept her head bowed, the Librarian returning his attention to the dryads. As for dryads, the black-haired one turned her gaze to the Librarian, speaking in the language of the trees, Arbor.
“What is your purpose here.”
The Librarian responded in kind, “I and my companions are traveling to the land of the dwarves, we desire passage through your forest.”
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The dryad tilted her head curiously.
“You speak Arbor... who are you?”
The Librarian bowed his head.
“I bear the name Surveyor, bequeathed to me personally by the Creator.”
The dryad’s eyes widened for a moment.
“The Creator himself named you?”
The Librarian nodded and the dryad then said, “How do I know that is true?”
The Librarian thought for a few moments, wondering how bes to prove tot he dryad that he was who he said he was. Finally, he decided to speak in the First Language, not infusing them with as much power as he normally would for the sake of his mortal companions.
"Because I do not lie.”
Even holding back, the power of the words still stunned the minds of everyone who heard it, the words seeming to speak more into their minds than rather to their ears. For the First Language was Darkness's way of expressing his thoughts to the Universe, a manifestation of his will. Rather than attach meaning to words, the "words" that Darkness uses are the manifestations of those concepts, they are the first meanings given form. As such, one could not lie with these words because there were none who could twist the meaning of those words, only Darkness himself had that authority.
Realizing this, the black-haired dryad fell to her hands and knees, apologizing for having doubted the Surveyor.
“I beg for your forgiveness, oh Named One, although I do not deserve it.”
The Librarian shook his head, saying, "Forgiveness need not be given where it is not needed. You have not committed a great crime."
The black-haired dryad nodded, standing as she said, “If it is within my power, I shall do anything it is you ask.”
The Librarian nodded.
“Just safe passage through your lands shall suffice.”
The Librarian was about to finish up when he remembered Illithar, glancing down at her before looking back at the dryads.
“I would also ask that you ask this one’s questions, she has lived her life apart from the home of her ancestors and perhaps you may hold the answers to what she seeks.”
The black-haired dryad studied Illithar, finally saying, “It shall be done.”
The librarian nodded and was about to tell Erwin to start up the tank when the dryad spoke,
"However, I would ask that metal thing does not enter our forest."
Thinking about it, the Librarian nodded.
"Very well."
He then took a step forward, holding out his hand.
“Then this deal is agreed upon?”
She too took a step forward, shaking his hand.
“It is.”
The Librarian then walked back to speak with Erwin, telling Illithar that she was now free to ask the dryads any questions that she may have. Leaving her to that, the Librarian went to speak to Erwin about the matter of his tank. It wasn’t too big of a deal as the Librarian could always summon it if need be.
Erwin took it well, after all, he was a soldier who answered to orders, not questioned them. He did raise a few concerns about the tank’s safety but the Librarian assured that it would be absolutely safe, after all, the tank could always be replicated exactly from the Librarian’s memory. It was no big deal if the original was destroyed. And so with that matter rather easily solved, the Librarian began to walk with Erwin at his side, the tank remaining where it stood.
As they walked, Erwin asked, “So what exactly are these dryads? Are they like the ones mentioned in greek myths?”
The Librarian said, “I have no context to the myths of greeks but if they are similar to the spirits of trees, then yes, that would be accurate.”
The Librarian paused for a moment.
“Then these elves and all these other creatures, you mean to say that you have some sort of knowledge of them in your world?”
Erwin nodded.
“Well, there are stories about them but it is believed that they are fiction. I confess I too once thought they were fiction until I came into this world. It was as if the world of legends had come to life. The stories I had grown up with in my childhood seemed to become real, well, some of them. But now, it’s all just so natural, as if I had been surrounded by these mystical things from the beginning.”
The Librarian said, “I would very much like to hear these myths of yours sometime, of course, I shall offer the equivalent knowledge in return.”
Erwin nodded.
“Well, when things aren’t so busy and I actually have time to recall, I’ll do my best.”
The Librarian nodded.
“Well, whenever you are free.”
Joining up with Illithar and the black-haired dryad, they began their last stretch of the journey, walking in the forest. As they walked, with the dryad at their front, the trees parted like water before Noah, a fact that Erwin commented on. As the Librarian and Erwin soon engaged in conversation about the stories of Earth, Illithar walked silently behind the dryad, filled with many questions but hesitant to speak.
Seeing this, the dryad sighed inwardly before saying, “If you have questions, please feel free to say them, I do not mind.”
Startled, Illithar hastily nodded, finally asking, “Have you met any elves before?”
The dryad nodded.
“Long ago, although I cannot remember when.”
Illithar then asked, “What were they like?”
The dryad said, “They were polite, kind, and respectful. A race that I preferred to speak to over all the others, for they held nature in high esteem. They were pretty powerful too, powerful enough that I asked them for an alliance to defend against a common enemy, the humans.”
After soaking this in, Ilithar wondered on what other questions she could ask, finally saying, “Are there still elves around?”
At that, the dryad paused slightly before answering, “I do not know.”
At that, Illithar frowned, she felt that the dryad did know something but just refused to say. However, she wasn’t brave enough to actually confront the dryad about it so she kept silent. There was an awkward silence, one finally broken by the dryad.
“Do you have any more questions?”
Illithar, currently drawing up a blank, said, “Um, what is your name?”
At that, the dryad gave her a look before returning her gaze forward, saying, “I am Altia.”
After waiting for further words, Illithar introduced herself.
“I am Illithar.”
Altia only nodded as they continued to walk, Illithar feeling as though she was bothering her. However, she then remembered the Librarian’s advice, to get answers, she must be brave enough to ask, otherwise she will forever wallow in ignorance. And so, steeling herself, she continued to ask Altia questions, learning more and more about the history of her people.
She came to learn of the Premen and how their conquest pushed the elves off of their lands and into the forests where they first encountered the dryads, of how dryads and elves allied with one another to cease the Premen advance, and of how elves fought alongside humans, beastmen, and even the angels of Heaven against the Premen threat.
She learned of the Age of Rebuilding, when the ravaged mortal nations began to repopulate the world following the devastation of the Great War, with Agleon and Heaven separated for good, of how elves made a pact with the dryads: the elves would protect the sentient trees of the dryads and in return, the dryads would allow them to reside within their forests.
Then came the Age of Decline, when the dryads all began to sleep and the ancient forests were now uninhabited as, without the dryads’ protection, the elves could not walk freely in the forests. Then came the Calamity, demonic forces surged forth from tears in the sky, a great force of destruction fell down to Agleon, and the forces of heaven were roused once more. However, this time, Heaven did not come to aid the mortals, they came only to deal with the demonic threat.
After the force of destruction suddenly disappeared and the forces of Light retreated, there were only the orcs and like a wave, they fell upon the races of men and elves. Kingdoms were burned, women were taken, and men were slaughtered, only a few could escape. And the dryads who had awoken, they too were slain by orcish axes and to defend themselves, the dryads made a great wall of trees, impervious to fire and so thick that not even a thousand axes could cut through.
It was this tree wall that had kept their small pocket of wilderness safe, where things were relatively normal in the chaos of the Age of Retreat. Ilithar listened, asking a few more questions to specify things she did not know but overall, she soon gained a very broad understanding of her people’s history.
And upon learning of her people’s accomplishments, which weren't as grand as the works of men, she could not help but feel some pride for the first time, pride to be an elf. In the cities, humans often spat at her and the other elves behaved in ways that made her feel ashamed. But now that she knew that her people were not always so gladdened her heart, as it meant that the children at the orphanage could become what their ancestors were long ago. They wouldn’t have to grow up to be cruel and hard, because hopefully with what she was going to do, she’d give them a chance to grow up here, in the forest.