Tap, tap, tap…
Elisa, shrouded in a dark, flowing black robe, clutched her longbow tightly, her emerald-green eyes darting vigilantly across the shadowed landscape. Despite her cautious demeanor, her footsteps remained swift, cutting through the snow-dusted path with purpose.
Huff, huff… Elisa's breaths came in short, ragged gasps, her body weary from the relentless journey. She had been traveling nonstop since dawn, and now, eleven grueling hours later, the clock neared 7 p.m. Moth City lay just an hour away, tantalizingly close yet still out of reach.
"Hold on a little longer. You're almost there," She murmured to herself, her throat parched and aching from the strain. The day's ceaseless march had sapped two-thirds of her stamina, leaving her muscles heavy and her mind fraying at the edges.
Huff, huff… She cast a wary glance over her shoulder into the inky blackness behind her, a bitter smile flickering across her lips. Turning forward, she pressed on, her senses sharpening with every step. The closer she got to Moth City, the more likely it was that the Black Iris Organization had posted sentries, lurking in the shadows, waiting to ambush the unwary.
Tap, tap, tap…
Elisa shook her head, dislodging the delicate snowflakes that had settled on her hood. The snow had fallen lightly all day, blanketing the ground in a thin, treacherous layer that made each step a laborious effort, her boots sinking slightly into the icy crust.
"I wonder if Ayesha will be furious when she reads my letter," Elisa mused softly, a wistful smile tugging at her lips as she pictured the horned girl's blunt, fiery personality. If Ayesha knew about her mission, she'd likely demand to join her—or worse, rally the city's patrol guards to march alongside them.
"But I can't be that selfish," Elisa whispered, her voice tinged with sorrow. The patrol guards would undoubtedly bolster her chances, their strength and numbers a formidable asset.
Yet she couldn't allow it. If Ayesha led the guards out of Sedona City without authorization, regardless of the cause, it would be a grave breach of protocol. Taking knights beyond a lord's territory without permission was a cardinal sin in this world, one that could cost the leader their head as a warning to uphold noble authority. Elisa couldn't bear to put Ayesha in such peril.
"Sigh…" A heavy exhale escaped her lips, her breath misting in the frigid air. She had briefly considered pleading her case to the city lord, but her secret identity as an elf—and the lord's absence from Sedona City—had quashed that fleeting hope. Every option had crumbled under scrutiny.
Perhaps, deep down, she lacked the courage to ask for help. For five long years, she had survived alone in the human world, scraping by on her wits and resilience. Her only true friends—Dahlia, Catherine, Lucy, and the little one—numbered just four. That small circle had been her anchor.
It was why Sedona City had ensnared her heart so completely. Its warmth, its fleeting promise of belonging, had felt like a dream. But now, reality had dragged her back to the harsh truth: she was alone, and some battles could only be fought solo.
By 7:30 p.m., with just half an hour left to Moth City, Elisa shifted into stealth mode. She slipped into a desolate forest of withered trees, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky. Her movements became deliberate, every step calculated to avoid detection.
Crack!
A sharp snap of breaking wood pierced the silence nearby. Elisa's emerald eyes narrowed to slits, her left hand swiftly raising her bow. Her right hand, with practiced precision, plucked an arrow from her quiver, nocked it, drew, and released—all in a single, fluid second.
Whoosh!
"Ah!" A woman's startled cry echoed from the darkness, abruptly silenced. Elisa's brow creased in suspicion.
She drew three arrows from her quiver—one nocked on the string, the other two clasped between her fingers for rapid follow-up shots, a technique honed by generations of elves for survival.
Swish! With a powerful surge, Elisa sprinted toward the sound, her legs carrying her with astonishing speed through the tangled undergrowth. If this was a Black Iris sentry, she'd silence them instantly to prevent them from alerting their comrades.
Her movements were a seamless blend of grace and lethality, her bow held ready, the arrow's tip trained on the darkness. Her green eyes flicked rapidly, scanning for threats, while her pointed ears twitched, attuned to the faintest sounds in the night.
Soon, she reached the source of the noise and froze, her breath catching. A young girl stood pinned to a tree, struggling to free herself from an arrow that had pierced the fabric under her armpit, embedding itself in the trunk. One inch closer, and it would have torn through her heart.
The girl's emerald-green hair and matching eyes marked her unmistakably as an elf—the reason for Elisa's stunned pause.
"You're… an elf?" Elisa asked, her voice thick with shock. The girl appeared unremarkable, with a plain face dotted with faint freckles, looking no older than seventeen or eighteen.
Not all elves were breathtaking beauties or dashing heroes. Most, like humans, were quite ordinary in appearance.
"You… you're an elf too?" The girl's eyes widened, fear mingling with recognition as she stared at Elisa's green gaze.
"Haa…" Elisa exhaled, tugging off her hood. Her white hair cascaded free, her pointed ears peeking through the silvery strands.
She hadn't expected to encounter a fellow elf in such a place—and she'd come dangerously close to killing her. Glancing at the arrow pinned under the girl's arm, Elisa thought: Lucky.
"You… you're the White-Haired Enchantress?" The elf girl's eyes grew wide, and she gasped, "Are you here to save the other elves too?"
"What's your name?" Elisa asked softly, gently extracting the arrow from the tree. "You know me?"
"I'm Bonnie," The girl replied, her gaze filled with awe. "The name White-Haired Enchantress is legendary among the elves. You're the one who brought down a human duke!"
"Just call me Elisa," Elisa said, shaking her head. She bristled at the title White-Haired Enchantress.
Unlike most elves with their characteristic green hair, her white locks marked her as an outlier among her kind. Fortunately, her family and friends had never ostracized her for it, one of the many reasons she held her people so dear.
"Uh…" Bonnie blinked, scratching her cheek sheepishly. Realizing the title might not be flattering, she quickly corrected herself, bowing slightly. "Lady Elisa."
"Lady?" Elisa rolled her eyes. Another title? Still, it was preferable to White-Haired Enchantress, so she let it pass.
"Bonnie, did you come here because of the rumors too?" Elisa asked, her tone measured.
"Yes, we all came after hearing the news," Bonnie replied, crouching to retrieve a short bow and a quiver of arrows buried in the snow.
"Sorry about earlier," Elisa said, her eyes flicking apologetically to the tear under Bonnie's armpit.
"It's fine. My stealth skills aren't up to par," Bonnie said, shaking her head, patting her chest with lingering relief. "Lady Elisa's archery is incredible—hitting me in the dark just by sound."
"Bonnie, you mentioned 'everyone.' Are there other elves here too?" Elisa steered the conversation, uncomfortable with the praise. Her archery was a product of years on the run—nothing to celebrate.
"Yes, five of us came in total. With you, Lady Elisa, that makes six," Bonnie said, her voice brimming with excitement, clearly thrilled that their chances of rescuing their kin had grown stronger.
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