Max had been feeling strange after a few days in the colony. She noticed that every night she managed to sleep through the entire night, which left her somewhat uneasy, as if she should not be allowing herself such a luxury.
At dawn on the fourth day, she was already on her feet as soon as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window. She headed outside, where she encountered a small Elf she knew as Ella, whom Elowen had introduced to her about two days earlier, before leaving once again on some kind of investigation.
Ella noticed Max stepping out of the cabin and called out as soon as she saw her.
— Miss Max! Did you sleep well? — she exclaimed.
Max replied.
— I slept… — Max answered after a brief pause, as if she were testing the word before using it. — Better than I should have.
Ella tilted her head slightly, her ears moving almost imperceptibly in a gesture that was more curious than concerned.
— Is that a bad thing? — she asked, genuinely confused.
Max thought for a few seconds before answering. The morning air was cool, filled with an earthy yet sweet scent, something between wet leaves and ancient wood. Everything there felt… far too calm.
— No — she said at last. — It's just strange.
Ella smiled, a simple, almost childlike smile, and gestured for Max to follow her. The two began walking along a small stone path partially overtaken by exposed roots, as if the forest itself had decided to shape the route to its liking.
— Elowen says the body knows when it can rest — Ella commented as they walked. — Sometimes the mind takes longer to accept it.
Max did not respond right away. She observed her surroundings: the colony's structures did not seem exactly built, but cultivated. Walls of living wood, gentle curves, windows that were not perfectly symmetrical. Nothing there seemed to force nature into obedience — everything was a silent agreement.
— Does she often say things like that? — Max asked.
— Quite often — Ella replied with a soft laugh. — But she doesn't always explain.
That drew a slight, almost involuntary smile from Max. She realized then that she had been smiling more since she arrived there, even when she did not mean to.
They reached a small clearing where sunlight filtered through the tall canopies and scattered across the ground in golden patches. Some elves were already there, tending plants, speaking in low voices, or simply sitting, as if listening to the forest were a task in itself.
No one seemed bothered by Max's presence.
That, perhaps, was the strangest thing.
— You don't need to help — Ella said quickly, noticing Max's attentive gaze. — But you can stay, if you want.
Max nodded and sat down on a low log nearby. She watched Ella join the others, her hands moving naturally among leaves and branches, as if each gesture had been learned long before it was ever thought about.
She tried to remember the last time she had sat somewhere without waiting for something to happen.
Hospital. Home. Café. There was always an invisible weight, a constant expectation. Here, there wasn't.
The silence did not demand answers.
Even so, something inside her remained alert. It wasn't fear — it was caution. A distant sense that, even in that refuge, she should not forget who she was… or what she had lost.
Max closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on her skin. When she opened them again, her gaze briefly crossed the reflection in a nearby puddle of water, formed by the irrigation of the plants.
For a second — just one — she had the impression that the reflection took longer to follow her.
She stood up too quickly, her heart racing for no clear reason.
— Miss Max? — Ella called, turning back toward her. — Did something happen?
Max took a deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax.
— No… — she said, looking away from the water. — I think I'm still getting used to things.
Ella watched her for a longer moment this time, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she only nodded.
— Then stay a little longer — she replied. — There's no hurry here.
Max sat back down.
Maybe she was right.
Or maybe it was just another thing that seemed safe… until it wasn't.