Sage watched Duncei with a pang of envy, kicking himself for not agreeing to help the elves earlier. The responsibility, the *weight* of it, felt strangely… noble.
Mystic Mystic Moon bounced beside Duncei, grinning. "Thank you, Auntie! So, where do we start? The three Empires are *massive*. Any idea which nation's nobility is most likely to abduct your kin?"
Elf Queenris offered a helpless smile. "We know little of human politics. Finding them rests upon you and your companions. Remember," her gaze fixed intensely on Duncei, "…you have three years. If my daughter's Sylvanic Lineage is compromised before that…" She trailed off, the unspoken consequence hanging heavy in the air. "Our very existence hangs in the balance. I wouldn't ask this of you lightly." Six centuries weighed on her soul, a life nearing its natural end in Elven terms. Without an heir bearing the pure Sylvanic Lineage to take her place upon the Queen's Throne and commune with the Ancient World Tree upon her passing, the intricate life-energy matrix sustaining Elysian would unravel. The Elvenkind would fade. This truth, the core of their peril, she kept locked tight. Her desperate plea was not only for her daughter, Stella, but for the very survival of the Elvenkind.
Mystic Moontrace leaned forward, ever the strategist. "My guess? Sunset Imperium. That place is a shadowy swamp – Thieves' Guild headquarters, nobles drowning in debauchery. They'd pay top coin for elven captives, hands down."
Sage nodded agreement. "Mystic Moontrace is right. Sunset nobles are predators, practically running the show despite the Imperial family. They have the resources, the *audacity*, to hire those Reaper-grade assassins."
Elf Queenris's eyes sparked with fragile hope. "This information is invaluable. A target streamlines the search. Thank you."
Mystic Moontrace sighed, a touch of regret. "We wish we could aid you, Your Majesty. Our path diverges. We can only hope Duncei and Mystic Mystic Moon succeed where we fear to tread."
"Peace, young one," the Queen said gently. "Each spirit finds its own course. There is no judgment." The pressure of an unknown deadline pressed down, a silent countdown ticking.
Rock, ever impulsive, slapped his leg. "Then what're we waitin' for? Sunset's a long hike. Gotta hit the trail!"
Dunce shot his brother a quelling look. He turned back to the Queen. "We accept your hospitality. Depart at dawn." Practicality outweighed haste.
Elf Queenris inclined her head. "Rest well. Sentinel Sylvanic will attend to your needs. May your spirits find comfort." With that, she and her four Elfmasters departed. None in the group knew the Queen and her aides had expended immense power in the Ritual of the Sylvan Wellspring and were now weakened and in dire need of recuperation.
The atmosphere in the great hall shifted once the elves vanished, tension settling like dust. Dunce led Rock to a corner to meditate. Duncei and Mystic Mystic Moon stood facing Mystic Moontrace and his companions. An awkward silence stretched.
Mystic Moontrace broke it first. "Duncei, Mystic Mystic Moon… apologies."
Mystic Mystic Moon waved it off with forced brightness. "Different roads, that's all. Hearing that Elfmaster Odyran talk about the Cursed Peaks? Yeah, *no* thanks. Maybe later, when we're tougher."
Mystic Moontrace managed a smile. "Back to Red Windbone for us. Home's calling. You're right. We'll meet again." He extended a hand.
Duncei remembered the crystalline gems Odyran had bestowed. He pulled them out—eight flawless, humming prisms of elemental power. "Mystic Moontrace, Sage… we share the spoils. Pick your share. Got a quest to fulfill, right?" He offered them up.
Mystic Moontrace looked startled. "These were entrusted to *you*, Duncei."
Duncei shrugged, earnest. "We traveled together. Share the load. Or, share the rewards. Honestly. Take what calls to you."
Even the usually self-serving Sage flushed slightly. "We barely contributed… taking these feels wrong."
Mystic Mystic Moon nudged him playfully. "Take them! Duncei's right. Fellow travelers. Keep them as a memento. A sign that our paths might cross again."
Mystic Moontrace sighed. "We'll take two. One to fulfill the Guild quest. One… as you said." He selected two crystals—one shimmering like captured wind, another deep green like ancient forests. "Tandor't argue, Duncei," he added firmly, seeing the young man about to protest. "You face danger ahead, searching for the Princess Petal. You might *need* these. Good luck." He clasped Duncei's shoulder once, then retreated to the corner to meditate, Sage following. The tension remained, but the pact was sealed. Bonds frayed, not broken.
Mystic Mystic Moon turned to Duncei. "Well? Which one you picking?"
Duncei hesitated, thoughts instantly turning to his missing master, Gorix. This commitment to Elf Queenris delayed his own quest. His heart ached with longing, leaving him momentarily adrift.
Mystic Mystic Moon laughed at his expression. "Seriously? Choosing a magic crystal is that tough?" She plucked a radiant, white gem. "I'm taking this Light Shard. Perfect for Mom. She'll adore it."
Duncei blinked. "Uh… which would Master Gorix like? He's a magic researcher…"
"Master of what?" Mystic Mystic Moon prompted.
"He conjures… black flames," Duncei said, a glimmer of pride. "Saw him turn a solid oak table to… nothing. Just gone. Not even ash." He recalled the sheer terror on the local bully's face witnessing it.
Mystic Mystic Moon's eyes widened. "Black flames? That's high-level fused Fire and Shadow magic! Impressive." She selected an obsidian-black crystal, its core seeming to devour light. "Take this Shadestone Core. Pure concentrated Shadow. Perfect for him. Might even boost his power." She tossed it to him.
Duncei caught it, hope blossoming. "Thanks, Mystic Mystic Moon. Maybe… maybe this will make him happy."
"Make him happy?" Mystic Mystic Moon snorted. "Who *wouldn't* be happy with *this*?"
"Hey," Duncei protested softly. "Tandor't speak ill of Master."
Mystic Mystic Moon stuck out her tongue. "What am I, chopped liver? He gets a cool rock, I get… a grumpy Duncei. Gotta meet this Gorix someday. See what makes him so special." A challenge glittered in her eyes.
Duncei flushed. "He… he raised me. Showed me kindness. That matters!"
Mystic Mystic Moon jabbed a finger playfully at his chest. "And *my* kindness? Doesn't count?"
Duncei stammered, ears burning. "Of course it does! But… but Master's different. Like… family."
"Uh-huh," Mystic Mystic Moon drawled. "Fine. But *I'm* still taking you to meet him." She yawned theatrically. "Anyway, what did the Queen give you besides the mom hug?"
Duncei recounted honestly: the Scroll of the Sylvan Call, promising two hours of aid if activated near her lost kin; and the deep crimson Dragon Egg nestled in the folds of the Godscale Satchel, his palm still tingling from the blood-bond ceremony that bound him to its future occupant.
Mystic Mystic Moon gasped. "A *Dragon* Egg? She gave you a *Dragon Egg*?!" Her voice cracked in the hall's silence. Luckily, the others meditated deeply, undisturbed.
Duncei hastily covered her mouth. "Shhh! You'll disrupt them! Messing with Chi flow is dangerous!" He lowered his voice. "Yeah. In the Godscale pouch. Needs to… incubate?"
Mystic Mystic Moon burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Incubate?! Oh gods, Duncei! She made you a… a *mommy bird* for a dragon?! Priceless!" Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Duncei frowned, genuinely confused by her amusement. "Is it *that* funny?" He wandered off to sit alone, pulling the warm, leathery egg slightly from the satchel, feeling its subtle pulse against his fingers.
Mystic Mystic Moon plopped down beside him, still giggling. "Tandor't be grumpy! It *is* funny! But hey, dragon knight? Kinda cool." She nudged him playfully. "Seriously though… incubate. Still gets me."
He grunted. "Not sulking. Just… processing." He closed his eyes.
Mystic Mystic Moon leaned her head against his shoulder. "Okay, dragon-mama. Meditate away. I need some mana time too." She closed her own eyes, a small, contented smile on her lips despite herself.
---
**Dawn. The Decision.**
Dunce awoke first, feeling an unusual sense of calm and renewed strength. Rock's loud snores confirmed he felt it too. Duncei and Mystic Mystic Moon stirred, both radiating subtle power—Duncei's reserves fully restored and humming with latent energy, Mystic Mystic Moon's mind sharp and clear.
"Time to move," Dunce announced. "Let's thank the Queen and set out. Mystic Moontrace… need a favor." He addressed the archer. Relations had been strained since the skirmish involving his sister Mystic Moonglade.
Mystic Moontrace looked surprised. "I'll do what I can."
"You head for Red Windbone through Rockforce's Vale," Dunce explained, referring to his tribe's lands within the vast Dunceheart Territories. "Find my father, Presidenttain Rockforce. Tell him we're well, avoiding the Cursed Peaks. Exploring the wider world." His gaze hardened. "Do *not* mention the Princess Petal or Sunset Imperium."
Mystic Moontrace frowned. "Your Duncekin are strong, Dunce. Fearsome fighters. Why hide the truth? Why shave your braids?" He gestured to Dunce and Rock's now-shorn scalps.
Dunce's voice turned grim. "Centuries rebuilding after the Great Grinding Wars. Our numbers are still fragile. I won't be the spark that burns our future." Responsibility weighed heavy on his broad shoulders.
Mystic Moontrace nodded, respecting the stark choice. "Understood. Message delivered." He turned to Duncei and Mystic Mystic Moon. "Take care. Both of you."
Duncei stepped forward, clasping Mystic Moontrace's forearm in a warrior's grip. Reluctance tinged his voice. "Stay safe, Mystic Moontrace. Sage." He nodded to the quieter strategist. "We'll find you. Someday."
Mystic Moontrace managed a genuine smile. "We will, Duncei. Just… make sure we meet again *above* ground, yeah?" He returned the grip. "You watch your back."
Mystic Mystic Moon squeezed Mystic Moonglade's hand, both girls blinking back tears. Promises of letters whispered between them.
Dunce exhaled sharply. "The longer we linger, the harder the leaving. Let's move." He strode purposefully from the great hall. The others followed. As they emerged, they stopped short.
Elf Queenris stood waiting, flanked by twenty formidable elves. Not a rustle betrayed their presence. Eighteen armed and armored sentinels with faces like seasoned wood, bearing spears tipped with crystalline energy; four robed Elfmaster sages radiating palpable power. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
Duncei hurried forward. "Auntie! You should be resting! Did we oversleep?"
Elf Queenris's smile was pure warmth. "Rest? Elves need little, dear one. We are here to see you off. These are our finest." Her gesture encompassed the guardians. "You travel with the eternal gratitude of the Elvenkind. Should human realms ever lose their luster, Elysian welcomes you as kin." Her eyes settled on Duncei, deep and soft. "Remember the Scroll. Even if Stella eludes you… use it in peril." She gently took his hands. "Return *whole*, child."
Duncei's heart clenched. Her maternal care resonated deeper than he expected. "Your Majesty," his voice turned steely, conviction hardening his gaze. "On my life. Stella *will* return to you."
Elf Queenris frowned, a flicker of maternal fear beneath her regal composure. "Life Rockforce is precious, Duncei. *Yours* matters as much. Farewell." She signaled. Elven Sentinels presented each traveler with a compact travel pack filled with the forest's bounty—nutrient-dense roots, vibrant berries that pulsed with energy. Goodbyes were murmured, heartfelt but swift. Two distinct groups formed: Duncei's party guided westward by Elfmaster Sylvanic Sentinel and a small escort; Mystic Moontrace's group guided south by others.
Elf Queenris watched them vanish into the emerald depths, hands pressed together. A silent plea whispered on the breeze: *Ancestral Spirits, shield these brave hearts. Guide their steps. Bring them home.* Behind her, Odyran placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Faith, fragile but present, held firm.
---
**The Western Trail**
Sentinel Sylvanic led Duncei, Mystic Mystic Moon, Dunce, and Rock at a swift, ground-eating pace through the woods. The atmosphere shifted as they walked, the ancient magic becoming palpable even to humans.
"West takes you into the Woodkin Territories of the Arborion Tribe," Sentinel Sylvanic instructed Dunce. "Follow their borders southwest to the Skyfangs – the Titan Peaks range. Beyond the Skyfangs lies territory unknown to us. Where the humans of Steelhaven and their sprawling provinces begin."
Dunce nodded, the geography clear in his mind. "Once past Skyfang Province, we enter the Brightlands of Steelhaven. Cross that into Sunset Imperium. We'll search province by province. The Detection Bracelets might narrow the hunt." He paused, considering alternatives. "Another path exists. Follow the Arborion borders northwest. Skirt the edges of the Holy Citadel's influence. Directly into Sunset. Longer, but faster. Avoids climbing mountains."
Mystic Mystic Moon reacted instantly. "No! *Absolutely not*! Not Holy Citadel territory!" Panic edged her voice.
Dunce looked puzzled. "Why? They enforce peace like steel guardians. We're no heretics."
Mystic Mystic Moon flushed, stammering. "Well… uh… Skyfangs sound more exciting! Maybe see the famous Sky Blade Order? Your kindred, Duncei?" She deflected, nudging Duncei urgently.
Duncei caught on, loyal friend that he was. "Yeah! Skyfangs, Dunce. Watanaalways talked about the Sky Blade Order. Maybe visit… pay respects?" The memory of his fallen guardian twisted his heart.
Dunce let out a rough laugh. "Relax, Princess Petal. Skyfangs was my plan all along. Learned the basics of the Order's Edge from Master Sivon himself years ago. Time to see the source." He winked, enjoying the momentary discomfort he'd caused.
Mystic Mystic Moon glared, relief mixed with irritation. "Dunce! Not funny!" She stomped a foot.
Dunce shrugged, genuinely amused. "Holy Citadel spooks you? Thought your Light Shard would get you in good with them." He remained oblivious to her deeper fears.
They pressed on, the air growing cooler as the densest magic of Elysian began to thin. By high sun, they emerged onto the forest's western fringe. Sentinel Sylvanic halted at the tree line.
"From here, the world is yours," he stated gravely. "West leads to Arborion lands. Journey well. Elysian awaits your return." He offered a fist to his heart, an elven salute of deepest respect.
Dunce clasped the Sentinel's forearm. "Sentinel. Honor guard our mounts left in the Vale thicket?"
"They graze under watchful bows. Safe until your return."
Farewells were exchanged, warriors' grips firm. Duncei felt the quiet guardianship of the Sentinels watching until they disappeared into the rolling hills bordering the wood.
---
**Dunce offered Duncei a share of the crystals earlier, but both brothers refused, stating bluntly that "rocks aren't our style." Duncei secured the precious gems in the Godscale satchel with a sigh.**
**The air beyond Elysian felt thin, charged with anticipation. Their quest began.**
**…And Ended?**
**Two days after Duncei's group vanished westward into Arborion territory, a very different force arrived at the verdant gates of Elysian.**
**Blood Skeleton Monk Priest Xen stood at the edge of the whispering forest, his crimson and gold robes pristine, contrasting sharply with the wilderness before him. Behind him stood twelve senior priests clad in silver-chased white, radiating disciplined holy energy, and twelve silent, grim men in polished argent armor bearing the crossed keys of the Vigil – the Citadel's elite enforcers. A storm cloud gathered over Xen's usually serene brow.**
**Ten days ago, a frantic report from Vigil agent Argent Two had detonated in his study: his impulsive daughter, Mystic Mystic Moon, was heading for the *Cursed Peaks*. The very name sent chills down his spine. His daughter's half-trained magic, facing *that*? He'd almost panicked, suppressing the urge to tell his wife, and mobilized the closest strike team – these priests and Vigil enforcers – immediately.**
**Tracking Mystic Mystic Moon's eclectic group had been frustratingly slow, relying on Argent One's trail markers through the chaotic mess of the Confederated Territories. Argent Two led them through the desolate windswept wastes of Red Windbone, finally intersecting Argent One's trail near the Dunceheart lands. There, confrontation with the imposing Presidenttain Rockforce – Dunce and Rock's father – had yielded critical intel. Xen's blood had run cold when Rockforce confirmed his daughter's path… towards Elven lands… and worse, the deadly peaks beyond. He hadn't lingered, pushing the group relentlessly through Rockforce's territory with uneasy but expedited passage.**
**They reached the Elven border ten days after setting out. Argent One materialized from the dense undergrowth like a ghost, dropping to one knee before Xen, his face etched with frustration.**
**"Blood Skeleton Monk Priest. She entered the forest. Days ago."**
**Xen's eyes narrowed, a spark of crimson fury replacing worry for an instant. "Report."**
**"Sir. Shadowed the group. Encountered human threats within the woods – Reapers from the Obsidian Guild network. Ambushing. Hunting elves."**
**Xen's lip curled in disgust. *Obsidian Guild… audacious filth. Even here.* "Continue."**
**"The young mistress and her companions engaged. Seven Obsidian Reapers appeared. Young Duncei… he drew a blade. Dark. Corrupted. It invoked terror. He killed one Reaper, sent the others fleeing… but the cost seemed great. He collapsed."**
**Xen's calm facade cracked. "What *blade*? Describe it!" He gripped Argent One's pauldron.**
**"Black as the Void, Your Eminence. Radiating pure malice. It resonated… like descriptions of the *Soul Reaver*."**
**Xen recoiled as if struck. "*Dunce's Talon*…? In *his* hands? Impossible! The weapon vanished with the 'Reaper' himself decades ago!" His mind raced, decades of classified intelligence files flashing. This changed everything. The Obsidian Guild's involvement became almost irrelevant beside this horrific revelation. Duncei was no longer merely a reckless boy, but a potential catastrophic liability.**
**"Sir, I trailed them, but the deeper forest… it defied navigation. A maze woven by sorcery. Lost them after hours circling." He looked down. "Two days past, four others emerged. The young mistress's friends? Traveled east by cart. Believed mistress still within. Argent Two maintains rear watch."**
**Xen forced his focus back to his daughter. He breathed deep, seeking the subtle signature of his daughter's unique Light affinity. Silence. The forest's energy pulsed like a massive green heart, masking all but its own immense power. His daughter's distinctive signature? Absent. Vanished.**
**Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the holy wrath.** ***Not here. She's moving towards the Peaks.*** **"Into the forest," Xen commanded, his voice laced with divine authority that brooked no dissent. "Find her trail."**
**Argent One led the way into the suffocating green labyrinth of Elysian. Xen walked with a measured, terrifying calm, the power within him coiling like a serpent. The beauty was lost on him. His world had contracted to a single point: find Mystic Mystic Moon, *before* she stepped into oblivion, and confront the unfathomable horror of the Reaper's blade walking freely.**
**Deep within the ancient groves of the World Tree, the air hummed. Xen paused, sensing it immediately – a complex lattice of natural energy, ancient magic woven into the very essence of the forest. A guardian spell of immense sophistication.**
**Argent One stopped. "Here, Eminence. Beyond here… the maze defies penetration. Attempts only lead back."**
**Xen surveyed the seemingly ordinary trees, sensing the immense power woven into the flora. "Step back," he ordered the priests and Vigil agents, his tone leaving no room for argument. "A living barrier. Advanced sorcery."**
**He closed his eyes, extending his formidable divine will like tendrils of piercing Light. Immediately, the forest pushed back, a dense, ancient consciousness resisting his probing touch. The magic felt organic, labyrinthine, centuries old – impossible to unravel quickly. Impatience, rare and dangerous in a man of his rank, flared. The perceived insult – nature barring the path of the Citadel's representative – and the gnawing terror for Mystic Mystic Moon overrode caution.**
***No time for games.*** **He raised his hands, holy power coalescing around him with palpable heat. Lines of searing white Light traced a massive six-pointed star in the air before him, blazing with celestial radiance. Symbols of suns and constellations flared within its geometry as he poured his divine authority into it.**
***"Lord of Celia, Your Chosen demands the power to scour this mundane veil! Let the Radiance Descend! Illuminate the World! LUMINOUS BEACON!"***
**The charged silence shattered. The completed six-pointed star collapsed inward, then erupted outwards in a blinding tsunami of pure, destructive holy fire. A cylinder of incandescent white Light, three meters wide, screamed toward the heart of the forest shield.**
**The ancient trees reacted instantly. Walls of shimmering, emerald energy *slammed* into existence, coalescing from bark and leaf and air into a colossal barrier before the advancing beam. The collision was titanic – a *BOOM* like a falling star detonated against a mountainside. Raw power met ancient resilience. The green shield *shuddered*, radiating concentric ripples of light like a lake struck by a meteor. But it *held*. The immense beam of holy fire slammed against it, searing and roaring, pushing against the buckling barrier with relentless force.**
**Shock registered on Xen's face, quickly replaced by furious concentration. Such power could flatten fortresses! Yet this forest shield held? His pride ignited, mingling with the desperate need to breach it. He planted his feet, drawing deeper from the celestial tap, pouring staggering quantities of divine wrath into his Beacon. The roar intensified, the beam burning whiter, brighter, hotter. The emerald barrier visibly strained, groaning like overstressed metal, sections starting to glow white-hot under the unrelenting assault.**
**Deeper within Elysian, the impact resonated like a death knell. The sacred World Tree itself trembled in its roots. The crystal spires of the Heartwood Refuge chimed a discordant warning.**
**Elf Queenris gasped, hands flying to her chest, eyes wide with genuine terror. The magical pressure bearing down on the life-web of Elysian was unlike anything recorded. Not conquest, but pure, divinely-fueled obliteration. She summoned her Elfmasters with a silent, psychic cry.**
**Odyran arrived first, face grim. "My Queen! An assault… the Wards… buckling!"**
**"I feel it, Odyran!" Her voice held uncharacteristic strain. "Such power… focused destruction! Who wields this?"**
**"The beacon…" Sentinel Sylvanic breathed, joining them, his face pale. "Purest Holy Light… burning like a sunfall!"**
**Sylvaris's expression hardened. "This is no negotiation. They seek to *sunder* the Heartwood Shield!" The core protective enchantment, woven by generations of Elven monarchs, groaned in her soul. "To all Elfmaster s! Guardians to positions! Defend Elysian!" She drew herself up, every inch the Queen. "I will anchor the Wards here. Odyran, you and the Masters go! Confront this intruder! Identify this foe. Offer peace… but if they persist…" Her emerald eyes flashed with uncharacteristic cold fire. "Queen's Decree: Protect Elysian. By *any* means necessary."**
**The Elfmaster s exchanged grim looks. The sacred law of sanctuary was being shattered. Xen's impatient wrath had plunged them into the brink of war.**
**As Odyran and the other Elfmaster s flashed through the trees towards the raging storm at the border, Elf Queenris raised her hands, immersing her consciousness back into the trembling life-web. She poured her vast reserves of ancient Sylvan power into the buckling wards, fortifying them against the searing Divine assault, silently praying to the World Tree itself for strength. The line had been drawn in holy fire. The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest had just ignited a conflict far older and deeper than his missing daughter.**