A gentle breeze stirred the silk curtains of the healing chamber, carrying the scent of blooming roses and ancient trees. Rylan's eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking against the warm golden light filtering through the canopy above. His head pounded faintly, but it was the sight before him that truly made his breath hitch.
A girl stood at the foot of his bed, draped in flowing robes of pink and white that shimmered like morning dew. Her hair, a soft silver-blonde, fell past her shoulders in delicate waves. But what caught Rylan's attention—and left him speechless—were her ears. Slender. Pointed. Elven.
His heart stuttered. Elves? He'd read about them in dusty scrolls, thought them long vanished or hidden deep in myth. And yet, here she was—real, breathing, radiant.
Turning his head slowly, he saw his friends lying in nearby beds, surrounded by glowing rings of soft green light. Healers worked tirelessly, whispering chants as gentle magic flowed into their bodies. Relief surged through him at the sight, but before he could look back, the girl moved.
With sudden urgency, she dashed to his side, her dress trailing like petals in the wind. "Don't move!" she said softly, placing a hand over his chest. A warmth unlike any other surged through him—gentle, pure, powerful. It sank deep into his bones, washing away the dull ache in his limbs and mending what pain still lingered. He inhaled sharply.
Rylan blinked again. "What... just happened?"
"You're safe now," the girl replied, her voice a melodious whisper. "My healing spell has restored your strength. You're awake at last."
He sat up slightly, the sheets rustling. "Where... where am I? And who are you? Also—my friends… our beasts and soulbounds… where are they?"
The girl smiled kindly, folding her hands before her. "You are in the Kingdom of the Great Nature Elves. My name is Alison Ren, princess of this realm. Your friends were brought here after the battle. Their soulbounds and beasts are in the adjacent chamber, recovering. They suffered heavy wounds but are healing well under our care."
"The Kingdom of Nature Elves…" he echoed in awe. "I thought you were only legends."
Her smile turned wistful. "Many believe that. But we have lived quietly beneath the canopies of the Elderwood for centuries, hidden from the world's chaos."
Rylan pressed a hand to his chest, surprised by the absence of pain. "So I'm… fully healed?"
Alison nodded gently. "Yes. But though the wounds are gone, your body remains weakened. You must avoid battle for some time."
"Am I allowed to leave this place? I need to—"
"You may be discharged," she interrupted softly. "Though we advise you to rest, you are free to move about the kingdom. I'll show you."
With that, she offered a hand, and Rylan took it. The warmth of her magic lingered in her touch, making his fingers tingle. She led him through a corridor of flowering vines and glowing lanterns shaped like dragonflies. Elven guards bowed as they passed, and Rylan marveled at the harmony of magic and nature around him.
Alison guided him into a courtyard blooming with twilight blossoms, then into the heart of the kingdom where an emerald castle rose like a mountain grown from living stone. Vines curled around its pillars, and the air hummed with magic.
"I've arranged a room for you in the castle," she said. "It's near the healing wing, in case you need anything."
"Thank you," Rylan said, sincerely touched. As they passed a balcony overlooking a crystalline stream, he hesitated. "Alison… is there a library here?"
Her silver eyes brightened. "Of course. The Grand Verdant Archive. I'll take you there."
The library was nestled in a high tower, where enchanted lanterns floated like stars and great trees grew through the center, their bark carved with ancient runes. Books hovered into place on their own, and the scent of parchment and rain filled the air.
"This is incredible," Rylan whispered.
"I'll leave you to explore," Alison said, bowing slightly. "Call for me if you need anything."
Once alone, Rylan moved quickly. He scoured the archives, searching for any references to the Vessel, the black crystals, or the foul energies of dark and void. Hours passed. His eyes scanned old spines: The Twilight War, Writings of Yin and Ruin, When Shadows Ruled the Sky—until one book pulled his gaze.
It was bound in weathered black bark, sealed by a metal clasp etched in symbols he didn't recognize. As he touched it, the clasp shimmered and clicked open.
Its title gleamed faintly in silver letters:
"Veins of the Withered World"
A chill passed through him. He opened it.
The first chapter was simple—an account of the world's balance and the energies that upheld life. But as he turned the pages, the tone grew darker.
"The Vessel of Destruction," he read aloud, "a soul born from the remnants of annihilation, chosen to wield the worst of all powers: dark, void, yin, and the lost element—destruction itself. The Vessel can create spells that twist existence, invert healing, and summon void-born spirits. The longer it remains active, the more chaos it absorbs."
He swallowed hard.
One illustration depicted a figure cloaked in shadow, their hands burning with violet-black flame. Below, masses of people fell like puppets, twisted by invisible strings.
He flipped to a section titled: Black Crystals of the Endroot
"These crystals," it read, "serve as conduits of corruption. Once embedded or exposed to a host already touched by dark energy, they begin a slow but irreversible poisoning. Symptoms hide beneath the surface—fatigue, uncontrollable surges of magic, and emotional shifts."
He kept reading, heart thudding louder.
"Within one year of exposure, the afflicted's body will collapse. Their soul will fracture. Death is certain unless the corruption is purified by Lightroot Essence or reversed through the Elemental Wells."
Rylan's hands clenched the pages.
One year…
His mind flashed to the boy at the academy—the Vessel. If he was truly cursed by the black crystals, and now awakened… time was already ticking.
Rylan closed the book slowly, fire beginning to burn in his chest. He would need to warn the others. He would need to find the Elemental Wells. He would need to act—before the Vessel's path of destruction became irreversible.
From somewhere beyond the window, a falcon cried out into the dusk.