When Portgas D. Ace arrived at the center of Burning Island, he immediately noticed something strange—there were unmistakable signs that someone or something was living here.
The heart of the island wasn't a sea of fire, but a forest of enormous golden-yellow trees. Unlike normal trees, their branches weren't adorned with leaves—but with flames. These weren't just decorative sparks—the fire burning at their tips radiated a scorching heat that Ace estimated surpassed 5,000 degrees Celsius, nearing the surface temperature of the sun.
Yet bizarrely, the intense heat didn't seem to radiate far. The area wasn't scorched, nor were the trees around them aflame. The environment was oddly balanced—alive and thriving in this high-temperature zone.
Although the number of trees was small, each one was gigantic—over fifty meters tall, and thick enough that five grown men couldn't wrap their arms around a single trunk. Their wide, umbrella-like canopies gave the forest a surreal, celestial look.
It felt like a flame fairyland.
What stunned Ace even more were the structures built high up in the trees—nest-like dwellings perched on branches, reminiscent of massive bird nests. They weren't natural formations. They were carefully crafted, and more importantly—inhabited.
Suddenly—rustle!
A sound from above caught Ace's attention. A small figure fluttered down from the branches.
The being resembled a human, but at one-tenth normal size. Transparent, cicada-like wings buzzed from its back. Its blue hair was longer than its body, trailing behind like a ribbon. Its ears were long and pointed. Yellow flames flickered from its wrists and ankles—flames that burned with the same hue as the trees.
Ace's first thought was tiny humans, but something about them felt… mythical. Then it clicked.
"An elf?" he muttered in surprise.
The being looked eerily like the legendary creatures known as elves—and the more Ace studied it, the more convinced he became.
Then—a voice rang out from behind him.
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"Who are you?"
Ace turned quickly—dozens of the winged beings had gathered behind him. They hovered in the air, weapons raised—short spears with blazing yellow tips.
"Human, why are you here?" demanded the lead elf, a female who floated forward with an air of authority. Her expression was sharp, and the fire around her wrists flickered brighter.
Ace raised his hands slightly in a peace gesture and smiled. "Obviously, I came here. But this is the first time I've seen anyone like you on the Grand Line. So tell me, what are you?"
"We are Sun Elves," the leader said proudly. "The people of the sun."
She pointed behind her to the blazing trees. "This forest is the Sun Grove, a sacred place. These trees—Sun Trees—emit heat no ordinary human should be able to withstand. So again… why are you standing here unharmed?"
"You mean the golden trees?" Ace asked, pointing. "They're beautiful. But yeah, they are hot."
He smiled and lifted his palm, igniting a small flame. "You see, I'm not exactly an ordinary human. I ate the Flame-Flame Fruit. My body is fire."
The elves blinked in surprise.
"I'm Portgas D. Ace," he added. "And you?"
"I'm Carol," the female elf replied, narrowing her eyes. "A Devil Fruit user… no wonder you can ignore the Sun Trees' heat."
She hovered closer, then asked, "So what is your purpose, Ace of Fire?"
Ace thought for a moment. "Purpose? Well… I'd like to make this island my territory."
"What?!" Carol's expression darkened. The fire on her wrists flared violently. "You want to take our home?"
The other Sun Elves reacted instantly, pointing their weapons at Ace.
"Hold on, I didn't mean it like that!" Ace said, dodging as several elves lunged with their blazing spears.
"I said territory—not conquest!"
"You humans are all the same—greedy!" Carol snapped.
From her waist, she drew a miniature longsword, barely ten centimeters long—but blazing with radiant heat. With a slash, she sent a fiery arc directly at Ace.
The blade passed harmlessly through his chest.
"I'm a Logia user," Ace explained calmly, his body reforming. "Physical attacks won't work on me. You can stop."
But Carol wasn't done.
"Flame Slash!" she cried.
Her sword lit up in a dazzling yellow blaze—its temperature exceeding 3,000 degrees—and she struck again, hurling the flaming slash into Ace.
The flame was absorbed by Ace's body as though swallowed whole.
He smiled. "Nice move, but I am fire, remember? You really can't hurt me."
Carol refused to give up. She flitted forward in a blur, her wings beating rapidly. Her tiny blade stabbed into Ace repeatedly, leaving glowing thumb-sized holes that healed immediately.
Other Sun Elves joined in, jabbing Ace with their tiny flame-tipped spears.
Sighing, Ace suddenly reached out and gently swatted them all back with a burst of flame—not to injure, but to create space.
Then, he caught Carol out of midair in one hand—holding her carefully between his fingers like a butterfly.
"Okay, Miss Carol," Ace said calmly, "I really don't want to take your home. Can we please stop and talk?"
"Let go of Lady Carol!" the other Sun Elves shouted in unison.
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