Arden, Ava, and Marcus entered the main hall just as Lila was finishing her exchange with Galadrian. Arden had been on edge since the fight, still wrestling with the disturbing events earlier. But when his eyes landed on the elf seated at the table, he couldn't help but chuckle silently to himself.

Galadrian looked every bit the Elenoid that Arden had conjured in his imaginations, tall and slender, with features sharp enough to cut glass. His ears tapered to graceful points, giving him an air of ethereal arrogance. He wore flowing garments in shades of forest green and deep blue, embroidered with intricate silver patterns that seemed to mimic the constellations. But what caught Arden's attention most were the incongruous restraints: Galadrian's delicate hands were bound together, and around his neck was a collar that shimmered faintly when Arden focused his [Mana Sight] on it.

The collar was a particularly disturbing element in what otherwise might have been a scene straight out of a fanciful tale. It raised several questions in Arden's mind, not the least of which was the significance of such a measure for an elf. Was Galadrian truly that dangerous, or was this more a statement of political theatrics? As he took in the scene, a notification popped up in his vision.

[ Identify ] Identification request by Keeper of Skills, Galadrian Quen'dalah Level: Steward

[ Currently showing ] Name: Arden Thompson Title: First Ranger … (options) Class: Ranger … (options) Level: … (options) Approve yes/no

Arden was taken aback. He didn't know that identification could be requested this way, and even more surprising, that he had options for what to display.

[ Title options ] First Ranger World Traveler

"Let's stick with 'First Ranger'," he thought. Promoting his world-traveling seemed like a bad idea at the moment.

[ Class Options ] Ranger Healer (warning: deception) Other … (options)

"Interesting, you can change it to anything you like. But why show it at all, then?" Arden mused. He decided to stick with 'Ranger'—it complemented the title, after all.

[ Level Options ] Denizen Citizen Steward Administrator

"No idea what these mean," Arden thought, puzzled. For now, he decided to go with the same title as Galadrian—it seemed like a safe option and there was no warning of deception attached to it.

So, he approved:

[ Identify ] Name: Arden Thompson Title: First Ranger Class: Ranger Level: Steward

Lila's hastily assembled plan had been met with cautious agreement by Marcus and Captain Kael. As she watched the heavy door swing shut behind them, a palpable shift in the room's tension enveloped her. She took a measured breath; her next task was to convince the enigmatic elf now standing before her. Just as she was considering this, Galadrian rose fluidly to his feet, the soft fabric of his attire barely making a whisper. He offered a slight bow of his head, his eyes never leaving Arden. “Eldarien vin'en Stew'thalas Arden Thompson”, ‘Peace be with you, Steward Arden Thompson,’ he intoned, the words rolling elegantly off his tongue.

Caught somewhat off guard but managing to maintain his composure, Arden reciprocated with a bow of his head. "Peace be with you, Steward Galadrian Quen'dalah," he replied, surprising himself by how easily the high elven dialect came to him.

A look of stunned bewilderment flashed across Ava's face. "Arden, you speak High Elvish?" Her voice tinged with disbelief.

Galadrian's eyes narrowed slightly, and his tone turned icy. "Know your place before your Stewards," he snapped the admonition aimed squarely at Ava.

Regaining control of the awkward moment, Lila spoke in a soft voice. "Please excuse my daughter's lapse in decorum." With a swift, almost imperceptible gesture, she signaled for Ava to kneel and bow her head.

Arden found himself at a loss for words, unsure of what to say next. Fortunately, Galadrian broke the uncomfortable silence. "Steward Arden Thompson, do you reside here?"

A bit perplexed by the question, Arden replied, "Yes, for the time being."

Switching to Common, Galadrian's face took on a pleased expression. "Splendid, this changes everything. Lila, my friend," he said, emphasizing the last word as if to remind her of some unspoken bond, "would you be so kind as to remove these restraints?"

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The tension in the room seemed to momentarily evaporate. Caught off guard, Lila's fingers moved almost autonomously, and before she knew it, she had severed the ropes binding Galadrian's wrists. The soft "snap" of the cut rope was followed by a subtle shift in the air, as if a lock had been turned, releasing some long-held tension.

"Thank you, my friend," Galadrian said graciously as he flexed his newly freed wrists and took his seat again. The fine fabric of his clothing whispered softly against the chair as he settled. "Arden, please join me. Lila, would your daughter be so kind as to fetch a plate for Arden? I’m afraid customs will not allow me to eat alone, and I’m starving." His voice carried an air of warmth, a stark contrast to the previous formality.

Recognizing the change in tone but still adhering to her habitual formality, Lila gestured gracefully for Ava to fulfill the request. "Of course, Steward. May I inquire what has prompted this change?"

"Let's speak in Common, shall we? We are in Arden's house, and it's customary to speak in the language of the host, is it not?"

Feeling her mental gears realign, Lila replied, "Yes, of course. My apologies for overlooking the tradition." A realization washed over Lila. "Excuse me for just a moment," she said with practiced grace, rising from her chair. "There is something I must attend to briefly to ensure our privacy."

Lila walked to the back room, her movements as fluid and purposeful as ever. Upon her return, Lila subtly activated the, now familiar, rod with a flick of her wrist. The air in the room seemed to thicken ever so slightly. Satisfied, she resumed her seat, casting a meaningful glance at Galadrian as if to say, "We may speak freely now."

Galadrian turned his focus back to Arden. "Is it common knowledge that you are a Steward?" he asked.

As if on cue, Ava arrived with a plate for Arden, her movements measured and graceful, a testament to her acute understanding of the room's heightened formalities. "Would you care for a beverage, Master?" she asked Arden.

"Master? Ah, well. Well. My dear friend, how did you manage to secure a Steward as a master for your daughter? Intriguing, very intriguing..." Galadrian mused aloud, not really expecting an answer as he picked up his eating utensils and resumed his meal with renewed vigor.

"I had a premonition, a vivid one, that guided me to Master Arden. As for how we came to an apprenticeship arrangement for Ava, that tale likely pales in comparison to the story of how the esteemed Keeper of Skills found himself bound in my house." Lila offered a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief as if challenging Galadrian to a game of wits.

In response, Galadrian lifted his water mug in a tacit toast, its cool exterior briefly dampening his fingers. He then set his piercing eyes upon Arden. "You're keeping your level a secret, no? Now, I'm no connoisseur of human politics and intrigues," he said, his tone dripping with irony, "but wouldn't you rank as one of the highest in your kingdom?"

Arden felt adrift in a sea of masked words and hidden agendas. He could understand the literal meaning of the conversation but was painfully aware that layers of subtext were flying over his head. He glanced at Lila, his eyes begging her to navigate these treacherous waters for him. She caught his nod and took it as her cue to continue.

"My friend, who said that Master Arden hailed from Eranthia? You've had firsthand experience with how they treat perceived threats from the outside, even with your elven wisdom backing you," Lila answered diplomatically on Arden's behalf.

Galadrian's eyes narrowed subtly, focusing intently on Lila. "'They,' not 'we'? An interesting choice of words, my friend," he said, his tone reflecting both curiosity and scrutiny. "Your tale does contain threads of truth but still falls short of the crescendo one would expect from a captivating story. What is the missing note, I wonder?"

Straightening in his chair, Galadrian paused to wipe his mouth with a cloth napkin before setting it neatly beside his plate. He locked eyes with Arden. "I will give you my word, as a Steward, to keep your secret for one hundred years," he announced, solemnly coloring his voice. Before Lila could interject, he raised a hand to silence her. "Yes, Lila, you can consider this an oath from a Steward."

Lowering his hand and leaning in slightly, he let the weight of his words settle in the room. "Do you have any idea when the last Stewardship was discovered in these parts of the world? Of course, you don't; it hasn't happened in a millennium. And now, I find myself sitting across from Adar-falas, the First Ranger."

His eyes, ancient and clear, remained intently fixed on Arden. "So yes, I am intrigued. How did you come to earn the title of First Ranger? And what challenge, if any, are you faced with? Clearly, you must have some; otherwise, you wouldn't permit her," he gestured with a nod toward Lila, "to speak on your behalf."

Arden felt a moment of insight cut through his confusion. 'Trust, but verify. Observe, and learn,' he thought inwardly. He then looked at Galadrian, choosing his words carefully. "Have you ever heard of someone waking up without any skills?"

Galadrian's face went inscrutable, his expression as unreadable as an ancient text. Silence stretched across the room, thick and charged, before he finally spoke. "Before I answer your question, tell me this: How did you come to possess the medallion of the First Ranger, and how did it become soul-bound to you?"

Choosing to tread carefully, Arden cautiously replied, “I'll describe someone to you; you tell me if you recognize him. Imagine blue eyes, glowing with intelligence, and fur white as a winter storm's day.”

"Yes, now this feels more like the true beginning for the tale of the return of the First Ranger," Galadrian nodded in agreement.

Lila felt an urgent need to steer the conversation toward safer topics. "My friend, you overheard my discussion with Marcus. Preparations for our journey must commence," she noted, her tone laced with an appeal to reason.

Galadrian's demeanor shifted once more as he contemplated Lila's words. "Friend, your plan is sound in its premise but rooted in inaccurate assumptions," he responded, measured and cryptic. "The urgency you perceive is not one that holds water in my perspective."

"Pray tell, what facts am I overlooking?" she inquired, trying to decipher the enigmatic elf before her.

Galadrian leaned back, a sly grin forming on his lips. "Why do you humans always assume that, when we speak in the language of our ancestors, we are ignorant of common speech?" His voice carried a hint of playful scorn, tinged with an undercurrent of deeper wisdom.

Lila sat in what seemed like a posture of patience, though every line of her body screamed tension. Her eyes stayed fixed on Galadrian, silently urging him to continue.

Galadrian paused, letting the room steep in anticipation before he spoke. "A tale it is. Imagine a gang of bandits planning to raid this very estate, only to find their plans awry when faced with an magnificent mage and a contingent of warriors." He paused for effect, his eyes taking in the faces around him. "Regrettably, the lady of the house could not be saved, despite the valiant efforts of these warriors."

Lila clenched her hands beneath the table, hidden from view but felt deeply within her.

"However," Galadrian continued, his voice lowering in both volume and timbre, "these saviors soon discovered that a hero already resided here. So alarmed was this so-called magnificent mage that he turned tail and fled, as if touched by a ghost. His exit was so hurried, one could only assume he failed to notify the bandits of the changed circumstances."

Lila felt her body stiffen, absorbing the implication of Galadrian's words. She exchanged a glance with Ava, a silent agreement flashing between them.

"Yes, a hero indeed," Lila said, her voice as cool and steady as her gaze. " Ava, go tell your father to barricade the gates. Now"

Arden looked from one face to another, his eyes widening with realization. "Wait, you've actually prepared for something like this?" His voice tinged with a mixture of awe and confusion, he added, "And here I thought bandits attacking was an unexpected crisis."

Ava smiled, her eyes meeting Arden's. "Better to be prepared for battles you never have to fight, than to be caught unprepared for the one battle you do."

Lila felt a sense of quiet pride swell within her, a reflection not only of her foresight but also the resilience she'd instilled in Ava.

At this point, Galadrian gave a slow nod, as though he'd suspected all along. "Well-planned and well-executed," he said, his voice threaded with deep respect.

Arden sat in stunned silence, grappling with the weight of the looming battle. Ava had left the room to warn her father, and he was alone now with his thoughts, Galadrian's millennia-old wisdom, and Lila's enigmatic, yet comforting presence.

His palms were clammy, his heart pounding like the hooves of a galloping horse. For the first time, he realized he was on the precipice of a battle where the stakes were as high as they could get—life or death. Until now, his fights had been more theoretical, a matter of training and exercise.

The words 'Trust in your knowledge,' echoed in his mind, a phrase whispered to him by Cortana. They were words he had pondered over, but only now did they carry a weight of imperative urgency. He needed to rely on what he knew, on what he was taught, and on who he was.

Arden's eyes met Lila's, sensing a well of courage behind her serene expression. Then he looked at Galadrian, an ageless being who had likely faced countless battles. If they could prepare, so could he.

He gripped the armrests of his chair and pushed down the rising tide of fear. 'This is real, and I must be ready,' he thought, 'for myself, for Ava, and for everyone depending on me.' He may not have the experience that they had, but he had something just as vital, a will to learn, to fight, and to protect.

Arden found his fears fading away, replaced by an increasing sense of purpose and the remembered advice of a dream. 'Trust in your knowledge,' he silently vowed, steeling himself for the fight that was no longer a distant possibility but a looming reality.