With that, Ash ascended as the King of the Beast Realm, the Ruler of all that creepeth upon the Forest and the Beyond. His presence settled into the land like a new law of nature, unseen yet absolute, a shadow cast not by light but by inevitability itself. The beasts did not cheer, nor did they howl. They merely accepted.
Veldra turned away. With a simple wave of his hand, he dismissed the realm as one might close a book whose ending had already been foreseen. Boredom tugged faintly at his thoughts. There had been little resistance, little struggle, little that truly stirred him. More than that, he found himself yearning for company, specifically Lucien's. Not out of necessity, but out of familiarity. Lucien was his sole executor, sole administrator, sole friend, his facet, his first being. A presence that did not weigh upon him.
It was not that Veldra wished to abandon Amon, or Ash, or wander no more through the lands of the Forest. Nor was it that he lacked curiosity for the outside world. On the contrary, his mind was crowded. Too crowded. The betrayal of the elves lingered like a wound that refused to close. The illusions of Aros still left a bitter taste, the corruption of the Beast Realm had revealed fractures beneath the surface of order, and all of it pressed quietly against his thoughts.
Yet none of it disturbed him as deeply as that voice.
That faint, persistent echo within his mind, neither loud nor forceful, yet impossible to ignore. It did not command. It did not threaten. It merely existed. And that was what chilled him. Each time he thought of it, a shiver crawled across his spine, as though something unseen had leaned closer.
"Goodbye. I am going back home," Veldra said at last, his voice calm, detached. Then he turned his head slightly. "Would you like to come with me?"
Lucien stiffened, caught off guard. For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his features before discipline smoothed it away. He had wondered, more than once, about the origins of Veldra, about the place he called home. He was not foolish enough to let such an opportunity slip past him.
Lucien smiled.
"Yes, my Lord. I would be more than happy to accompany you," he said, his voice carried by the wind like the hush of waves against a distant shore.
"Then it is settled," Veldra replied.
He shifted his gaze toward the others. "Ash. Amon. You may return to your realms. We will meet again." His eyes paused briefly, resting on a figure who had remained silent for far too long. "And you, Arroz…"
Arroz had stood there throughout it all, unmoving, unremarked upon, as though the world itself had chosen to overlook him. It was as if the narrative had passed over his existence entirely, as though his presence carried no weight, left no mark. Like a forgotten artwork hanging in an abandoned hall, unseen yet intact.
"Arroz," Veldra continued, his tone unchanged, "when I visit the outside world, you may come along. In fact", his gaze widened slightly, encompassing them all, "all of you may."
The response was immediate.
They knelt.
Not out of fear alone, nor reverence alone, but out of instinct, as though reality itself had instructed them to lower their heads. "We receive the favour of fate and grace," they said in unison, voices steady yet trembling, "that we lesser existences may accompany you, Lord of the Forest."
Veldra let a small smile surface, faint and fleeting, as though it did not truly belong to his face.
With that, Amon and Ash began to fade. Their forms unravelled soundlessly, returning to their respective realms as if pulled back by laws older than farewell. Arroz lingered for half a breath longer, his presence wavering like a thought on the verge of being forgotten.
"What's wrong?" Veldra asked, a trace of concern threading his voice.
"Nothing, my Lord," Arroz replied softly. Then he, too, vanished, swallowed by distance and obscurity, retreating to the far and forgotten corners of existence.
Only Veldra and Lucien remained.
With a casual flick of Veldra's hand, space folded. The world inverted, then steadied.
They reappeared within the Forest.
Not merely among trees, but within a domain where nature itself seemed curated by an unseen will. The grass was lush, each blade vibrant and alive, bending gently as if breathing. Towering trees rose around them, their bark rich and brown, their canopies layered like living architecture. Sunlight poured through the leaves in radiant streams, warm and unrestrained, painting the forest floor in gold.
Above, birds wheeled freely through the sky, circling the blazing sun as though worshipping it. Below, life moved in quiet abundance. Monkeys leapt between branches with effortless grace. Sloths clung to shaded trunks, hiding from the sun's intensity. Cats slipped soundlessly through the undergrowth, rats darted between roots, and countless other creatures thrived, each existing in perfect, unspoken balance.
Veldra began to walk, his steps unhurried, Lucien falling naturally into place beside him.
"My Lord," Lucien said after a time, his voice measured, "I have always wondered what the throne of the Forest looks like."
Veldra answered without slowing. "It's nothing. Just a house."
Lucien stopped.
Not abruptly, not dramatically, but enough for the words to settle into him. He said nothing. He only followed again, his thoughts rearranging themselves in silence.
They walked for a long while. The forest gradually grew quieter, the animals fewer, the air heavier, as though each step carried them deeper into something that did not welcome observation. The trees leaned closer together. The light softened, losing its brilliance, becoming something older, something watchful.
Then they reached it.
The house stood alone in a small clearing.