The first rays of morning light, filtering through the crystals in the cavern's ceiling, stirred Finn from sleep. He stretched slowly, feeling a dull ache in his back from spending the night on the floor. The oil lamp had long since burned out, leaving behind only a faint trace of scorched oil.
His eyes immediately fell on the book resting on the stand. The memories of yesterday came rushing back all at once. Reaching for the mysterious tome, Finn once again felt the strange warmth emanating from its binding. Yet no matter how hard he tried, the book remained as unyielding as it had been the night before—the tightly sealed pages refused to part.
Deciding not to waste more time, he took the book and set off toward Adam's dwelling. Along the way, he passed other inhabitants of the settlement—tall, stately figures with silver hair and pointed ears. Copies of the ancient elves, Adam's words echoed in his mind.
Now, knowing the truth, Finn saw them differently. Every movement, every gesture carried the refinement of centuries of practice, yet there was something… artificial in it. Did they themselves know the truth of their nature? That they were nothing more than reflections of a people long extinct? These thoughts gnawed at him as he wound his way through the narrow streets.
Reaching the elder's hut, Finn knocked carefully on the door. Silence answered him. He knocked again, harder this time—still nothing.
"Adam has gone on an expedition," came a sharp female voice behind him, making Finn flinch in surprise.
He turned to see Eva—a tall elf with perfect posture and a stern gaze. Her silver hair was pulled into an intricate style that emphasized the sharp lines of her face.
"He will be gone for some time," she added, studying the boy closely.
How convenient, Finn thought sarcastically, clutching the book tighter in his hands.
"Then I'll head to the arena," he said aloud, already turning to leave.
"You do realize you are hopeless, Finn?" Eva's voice was cold.
He stopped, but didn't turn back.
"I know," he replied quietly. "But what should I do to become strong?"
"You need a purpose."
"A purpose?" He turned to face her now.
"Yes," Eva nodded. "A path that you must carve out yourself. Every sentient being has one. From childhood they learn, they fail, they struggle—all for the sake of their purpose."
"And what is your purpose, Eva?" Finn asked, meeting her eyes.
"My purpose is to protect my home," she answered without hesitation.
"I see…" Finn murmured. "Thank you. I'll go."
With those words, he walked off toward the arena, leaving Eva standing at Adam's door. Her words echoed in his mind. A purpose… What was driving him? Why was he here, in this ancient settlement, among beings who knew no more about themselves than he did?
As he made his way through the deserted corridors, Finn sank into thoughts of his past. His memory was like a fog—dense, impenetrable—yielding nothing but fragmented images of recent days. Dark caves, the echo of dripping water, shifting shadows. He remembered fear and loneliness, remembered struggling to survive on whatever scraps he could find in the dark.
Only two days had passed since the elves had taken him into their settlement. Two days filled with discoveries, with training, with attempts to understand these strange people. And now Adam's revelation—that they were nothing but copies of a vanished race.
His memories tangled together like the pages of a waterlogged book. What came before the caves? Who had he been? Why had he ended up there? Questions multiplied, but answers eluded him. Like the sealed book in his hands, his past remained tightly shut.
Perhaps that was why these two days among the elves felt so vivid, so important. As if, for the first time in his life, he had glimpsed a spark of hope—a chance to learn the truth about himself, about his past.
He set the tome carefully on the wooden bench near the entrance and stepped into the arena. Today's training would be different. Now he understood why he needed strength—because only strength could help him find his purpose.
After all, even the name Finn might prove to be nothing but a false trail. But that no longer mattered. What mattered was that he now had a chance to uncover the truth. And he had no intention of letting that chance slip away.
The arena greeted him with its familiar chill and the distant echoes of training. Somewhere deep within, elves were practicing their techniques, honed over centuries. And he—a human boy who barely knew where to begin—stood alone. Every one of them had a partner for sparring, someone to exchange blows with, but he had no one.
The training weapon in his hands suddenly began to tremble, a vibration running up his arms and through his entire body. Then the wooden floor beneath his feet shook as if struck by an invisible force. A wave spread through the arena, resonating outward into the entire settlement. The elves froze mid-motion, their fluid strikes and stances breaking off in half-gestures.
Finn felt something stirring inside him. A strange sensation surged through his body, as if the nectar of the great tree, which he had been drinking these two days, had awakened and begun flowing through his veins. Every cell resonated with ancient power, and he understood—it was no accident.
The arena floor shuddered again. The fibers of the wood began to twist together, weaving into a shape… something familiar. Finn's breath caught in his throat as a figure began to rise from the planks.
A figure he had hoped never to see again.