Before Kael and his companions set out on their journey, Elian — the elven warrior among them — returned to his homeland beneath the silver leaves to seek the blessing of his queen and report the tidings of their quest.
Moved by curiosity and loyalty, Kael chose to accompany Elian to the Elven Forest — the sacred realm where the elves dwell. Thus, Kael and his companions set forth from the southern edge of his village, their journey bathed in the light of dawn.
As they traveled, Kael and Lyra spoke of the academy and the adventures that awaited them there. Yet beneath Lyra's gentle questions lingered a quiet longing — she wished only to be by his side. Kael, however, ever unmindful of such matters of the heart, failed to see the affection hidden behind her smile.
As the group ventured deeper into the winding forest paths, the air grew cooler, the sunlight filtering through the ancient canopy in golden threads. The chirping of unseen birds mingled with the whisper of leaves, carrying the scent of moss and wild blossoms.
Arden, ever the inquisitive one, walked beside Elian, his daggers glinting faintly beneath his cloak. With a mischievous grin, he broke the silence.
"So tell me, Elian," he said, twirling a small blade between his fingers, "why do your kin dwell in the Everflowing Forest of Blackwood? The name alone sounds cursed."
Elian chuckled softly, his sharp eyes scanning the trees ahead. "Cursed? Hardly. The Everflowing Forest is sacred to my people — a place where the streams never cease, and the trees remember every whisper of time. It is said that the roots of the forest are bound to the heart of Elarion itself."
Arden raised an eyebrow. "Sounds poetic. But living among talking trees and ancient spirits? Not sure I'd sleep well."
Lyra giggled, while Thorne smirked behind his helm. "That's because you've never respected silence, Arden," Thorne said. "The forest might teach you how."
Kael smiled faintly, though his thoughts wandered. The closer they drew to the elven lands, the stronger the strange warmth within his chest became — the same feeling that had stirred when he touched the symbol of the Celestials.
Elian noticed his distant gaze. "Do you feel it, Kael? The pulse beneath the earth?"
Kael nodded slowly. "It's like the forest is alive... watching us."
Elian's expression grew solemn. "It is. The Everflowing Forest sees all who enter. And for you, Kael, I believe it has been waiting."
A hush fell over the group as the wind carried the faint echo of an ancient song — a melody that seemed to welcome them and warn them all at once.
Elian walked ahead a few paces, his silver hair glimmering faintly beneath the dappled light. Then he spoke, his voice calm but edged with reverence.
"The reason my people dwell in the Everflowing Forest of Blackwood runs deeper than beauty or tradition," he began patiently. "Our home lies at the roots of the World Tree — the source of all life and magic in Elarion. Its roots spread across continents, binding the land, sea, and sky together in balance."
He paused, brushing his fingers against the bark of an ancient tree as if greeting an old friend. "We elves were chosen as its guardians. It is our duty to protect the World Tree from any who would seek to corrupt it."
Arden tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Protect it from what? Trees don't exactly have enemies, do they?"
Elian's expression darkened. "They do… when men and gods go to war." His gaze turned toward the horizon, distant and grim. "Long ago — during the Second World War — the mages and the Holy Church united to defeat a man consumed by darkness. He sought to claim the power of the World Tree itself, to twist it into a weapon of destruction. The war scarred both magic and faith, and the land nearly withered from the battle's fury."
Kael's brow furrowed. "And the elves?"
"We hid the World Tree here," Elian continued. "The Everflowing Forest was born from its magic — a sanctuary woven to conceal and shield it. But even now, after centuries, shadows still hunt for its power. That is why my people remain… ever watchful."
The group fell silent, the weight of Elian's words settling over them like mist. The forest seemed to breathe around them — alive with ancient energy, whispering in a tongue older than time itself.
Lyra glanced up at the towering trees, awe shining in her eyes. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
Elian smiled faintly. "Beauty and danger often walk hand in hand here."
Ahead, the forest began to open into a clearing bathed in emerald light. At its center stood towering crystal-like trees whose roots shimmered with silver veins. Elian turned to them and said softly, "Welcome, my friends… to Elderglen, the heart of the Elven Realm.
As they stepped into the glowing clearing of Elderglen, a gentle breeze brushed against them, carrying a faint hum — like the forest itself was singing in welcome. The group stood in silent awe, marveling at the radiant trees and the shimmering streams that seemed to glow from within.
Then, breaking the silence, Amara — Kael's younger sister — tilted her head and said with a mischievous grin,
"So this is where the elves live? No wonder Elian's hair always shines like polished silver. Do you all bathe in moonlight every morning?"
The group froze.
Arden choked back a laugh, Thorne coughed into his gauntlet to hide a smirk, and even Lyra bit her lip to keep from giggling. Elian blinked, clearly unsure whether to take offense or laugh along.
Kael sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Amara…" he muttered, trying to sound stern but failing to hide his smile.
Elian's lips finally curved into a soft chuckle. "Only on full moons," he replied smoothly. "Though I must say, the moonlight doesn't suit everyone."
That did it — Arden burst out laughing, clapping Kael on the shoulder. "Your sister's got a sharper tongue than half the assassins I know!"
Amara puffed her cheeks. "Hey! I was just saying the truth."
Lyra laughed gently, shaking her head. "You really do know how to break the tension, Amara."
Even Thorne, stoic as ever, let out a low chuckle beneath his helm. "I think I'll like her," he said.
Kael smiled faintly, looking at his sister — the warmth in his eyes softening the cool edge of his features. "Just try not to embarrass me in front of the Elven Queen, alright?"
Amara winked. "No promises, big brother."
Their laughter echoed softly through the clearing, mingling with the whispers of the trees — a rare sound of joy in a forest that remembered too many sorrows.
Elian turned toward the glimmering path ahead, his expression fond but focused. "Come," he said, gesturing toward the luminous archway of living vines. "The Queen awaits."
And with that, they followed him deeper into the heart of the forest — unaware that the ancient eyes of Elderglen were already watching their every step.
The group walked deeper into the shimmering grove, their footsteps quiet against the moss-covered ground. The air seemed to hum with unseen energy — a living pulse that grew stronger with every step they took toward the heart of Elderglen.
Suddenly, Thorne halted mid-step, his armored hand lifting sharply. "Stop," he said in a low, commanding tone.
Everyone froze.
Kael glanced around, his instincts flaring. The once-gentle rustle of the forest had fallen silent — too silent. Even the breeze had vanished.
Then came the faint creak of drawn bowstrings.
From the shadows between the trees, slender figures emerged — elves clad in forest-woven armor, their eyes glinting like polished emeralds. Bows were raised, arrows nocked and trained precisely on Kael and his companions.
"Lower your weapons," Thorne warned, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "We mean no harm."
But before the tension could rise any further, Elian stepped forward swiftly, both hands raised in peace. His voice rang clear through the still air.
"Hold your arrows!" he called in Elvish, his tone steady and commanding. "They are friends — guests under my protection!"
The archers hesitated. A murmur rippled through their ranks as they recognized Elian's voice. Then, from behind the front line, a tall elf stepped forward — his armor marked with silver leaves, his expression a mix of surprise and suspicion.
"Elian of the Silverguard," the elf said coolly. "You return unannounced, and with strangers no less. What business brings you — and them — to the Queen's domain?"
Elian lowered his hands but stood tall. "By order of the Queen herself, I was sent beyond our borders to investigate the rising shadow. These are my allies — Kael, the Heir of Light, and his companions. Their purpose is bound to the fate of all Elarion."
A hushed silence followed his words. The guards exchanged uncertain glances; the name Heir of Light clearly carried weight even among the elves.
The lead elf finally lowered his bow, though his tone remained guarded. "If what you say is true, then the Queen will decide their fate."
Elian nodded. "Then take us to her."
The elves eased their stance, lowering their weapons but keeping watchful eyes as they surrounded the group — not as captors, but as escorts.
Amara leaned close to Kael and whispered, "Well, that could've gone worse."
Arden smirked. "Remind me to never joke about moonlight baths again."
Kael exhaled quietly, tension easing from his shoulders as he followed Elian along the luminous path. Ahead, the air shimmered faintly — and through the glowing mist, the grand silhouette of the Elven Queen's Palace began to take shape, rising like a crown of light above the trees.
As they walked under the glowing canopy, escorted by the silent elven guards, the tension slowly eased — though the sharp eyes trained on them never wavered.
Arden, ever unable to hold his tongue, leaned toward Elian with a smirk. "Tell me, Elian," he murmured, his voice low but teasing, "why do your people look like they're about to shoot us at any wrong move? You'd think we were marching on their sacred temple."
Elian sighed softly, his gaze fixed ahead. "It's not you, Arden. It's what humans did long ago."
Arden raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did we do this time?"
Elian's expression darkened slightly, the faint glow of the forest reflecting in his silver eyes. "A century ago, a band of human mages trespassed into our sacred groves seeking the sap of the World Tree. They believed it could grant immortality. When the elves refused, they tried to take it by force. Many lives were lost before they were driven away."
The group fell silent. Even Arden, for once, had no witty remark.
After a long pause, Kael — ever the one to shatter solemn moments with unintended humor — tilted his head curiously. "So… uh, I have a question," he said.
Lyra glanced at him warily. "Kael, please don't—"
"Why," Kael continued innocently, "do all elves look so… pretty?"
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat.
Arden blinked. Thorne actually froze mid-step. Lyra's face went crimson. And one of the nearby female elves — a young archer with braided silver hair — nearly dropped her bow, her cheeks flushing pink.
Elian stopped walking, stared at Kael for a moment, then exhaled through his nose. "It's called grace, Kael. Something not all races are blessed with."
Arden burst out laughing. "Oh, Light save us — Kael, you just made an elf blush!"
Amara giggled uncontrollably, clutching her stomach. "Only my brother could turn a diplomatic escort into a love comedy."
Even Thorne's deep voice rumbled beneath his helm. "Next time, try not to flirt with the armed ones."
Kael frowned, utterly confused. "Wait, what? I wasn't flirting—"
But his protest only made them laugh harder, the sound echoing through the luminescent woods.
Even Elian allowed himself a rare smile. "It seems the forest isn't the only thing glowing now," he said dryly.
As the laughter faded, their journey continued toward the gleaming palace ahead — the towering heart of Elderglen, where the Elven Queen awaited them.
After their laughter faded, the group pressed onward, following the winding trail deeper into the forest. The soft glow of the trees brightened as they walked, the air thickening with the hum of magic so ancient it felt alive.
Before long, the woods opened into a vast clearing — and the sight before them stole their breath.
They had arrived at the heart of the Everflowing Forest of Blackwood, where the elves made their home. But it was no mere village. Towering trees stretched high into the heavens, their branches woven together with silver bridges and crystalline lights. Waterfalls cascaded down from the upper canopy, their streams flowing through the streets like living veins of light.
It was a city of nature and magic, alive and harmonious — every leaf pulsing with quiet energy.
Amara gasped softly. "It's… beautiful," she whispered, her eyes wide as she turned in slow wonder.
Lyra nodded, awestruck. "It's like walking through a dream."
Even Arden, usually quick with a quip, was silent — though a grin still tugged at his lips. "I could get used to this view," he muttered.
Elian smiled with pride. "Welcome to Elarithen, the heart of my people. And there—" he pointed toward the horizon, "—stands the World Tree."
At the far end of the city rose a colossal tree unlike anything they had ever seen. Its roots were the size of mountains, glowing with silver veins that pulsed with light. Its trunk stretched high beyond sight, branches spreading like a celestial crown across the heavens. The air around it shimmered as if reality itself bent to its presence.
Kael took a slow step forward, his chest tightening. He could feel something — a call, a pull — deep within his soul.
Then, without warning, the air rippled.
A soft hum filled the clearing, followed by a surge of energy that made the very ground tremble. Before anyone could react, light gathered around Kael's feet — and in the next instant, he was lifted into the air.
"Kael!" Lyra shouted, reaching toward him.
Thorne drew his sword instinctively. "What's happening?"
Elian's eyes widened in shock. "A spell… but not one of ours!"
The light around Kael brightened, wrapping him in strands of golden energy. His body floated higher, weightless, as if drawn by an unseen force — straight toward the radiant form of the World Tree.
Kael's eyes glowed faintly as ancient symbols flickered around him, the same markings that had once appeared on his hand when he touched the Celestial Seal.
"Elian!" Amara cried. "Do something!"
But Elian could only stare, stunned. "The tree… it's responding to him."
The elves around them dropped to one knee in reverence, whispering in their tongue. The air thrummed with a holy resonance — the World Tree itself recognizing something within Kael.
And as he floated nearer, a voice — soft, melodic, ancient — whispered through the air, echoing in his mind.
> "The light returns to its root… the Heir of the Celestials has come."
The light around Kael intensified until it was blinding, a radiant gold that painted the entire clearing in brilliance. The roots of the World Tree pulsed with living energy, streams of light flowing upward like veins of fire and magic. The air trembled — and then, with a deep, resonant hum, the unimaginable happened.
The great World Tree began to move.
Its colossal trunk shimmered, bark dissolving into cascading light. From within the golden glow, a figure began to take shape — tall, graceful, and radiant beyond mortal measure. The light bent and gathered, forming the silhouette of an elven woman — her body woven from pure luminescence, her hair flowing like rivers of silver light, her eyes twin stars burning with life itself.
She was enormous, towering above the tallest trees, her presence filling the forest with an overwhelming aura of serenity and power.
The elves fell to their knees, gasping in disbelief.
"Elune preserve us…" Elian whispered, voice trembling. "The World Tree... has taken form."
Thorne's hand went slack, his sword lowering as awe washed over him. Arden's usual smirk vanished entirely. Even Lyra's eyes filled with tears, overcome by the sheer beauty of what stood before them.
"This hasn't happened in centuries," Elian murmured. "Not since the First Age, when the Tree last spoke to the Children of Light."
The towering elven spirit looked down upon Kael, her gaze tender yet commanding. Her voice echoed through the forest, both everywhere and within every heart at once.
> "Child of Light… bearer of the Celestial mark… you have answered the call of Elarion."
Kael hovered before her, bathed in the same divine glow, unable to speak. His heart pounded in his chest as her words resonated through his very soul.
> "Long have I slept," she continued, her tone both sorrowful and majestic. "Long have I waited for the Heir to awaken — for the light to rise again against the shadow."
The forest itself seemed to breathe with her words. The rivers shimmered brighter; the leaves whispered as if singing an ancient hymn.
Amara clutched Lyra's arm, her eyes wide. "Is that… is that the World Tree talking to Kael?"
Lyra nodded slowly, unable to tear her gaze away. "Yes… and she knows him."
The glowing figure extended a hand — a vast, ethereal palm made of living light — and touched Kael gently. The moment her fingers brushed his chest, a burst of energy rippled through the clearing.
Golden runes spiraled across Kael's body, marking him with ancient symbols of light.
Elian fell to one knee, bowing deeply. "By the stars… the prophecy is true."
The radiant elven spirit spoke again, her words heavy with both promise and warning.
> "Kael, Heir of the Celestials — the darkness that once plagued this world stirs anew. The Shadowborn King's reach grows stronger, and the balance of life and light falters. You must walk the path laid before you… or all shall fade into shadow."
Then, her gaze softened, her tone almost human.
> "Do not fear your destiny, child. You are not alone."
As her light began to fade, her towering form dissolved back into the golden streams of the World Tree, leaving behind only the faint glow that now radiated from Kael himself.
Silence fell over the clearing.
No one dared to move.
It was Arden who finally exhaled and muttered, half in awe, half in disbelief, "Well… I guess breakfast conversations just got a lot more complicated."
Laughter broke the tension — quiet, nervous, but real.
Kael slowly descended to the ground, his feet touching the soft grass as the last of the divine glow faded around him. He looked at his friends — at Amara's wide eyes, Lyra's trembling smile, Elian's reverent bow — and felt the weight of destiny settle fully on his shoulders.
The World Tree had spoken.
And the real journey of the Heir of Light had just begun.