Morning light filtered through the leaves of the Etheria forest, painting dappled shadows across the village paths. Birds chirped overhead, and a faint mist still clung to the grass as the twelve elf children gathered outside Lucretia's home, weapons sheathed, bags packed, and spirits high. Their journey south was about to begin.
Lucretia stood on the porch, her long silver hair catching the sunlight. In her hand was a small wooden basket filled with curious, almond-shaped seeds.
"These are for each of you," she said warmly, passing them around. "Almondnuts. Not for eating, don't cook them."
Kyle paused mid-snack and looked at his nut suspiciously. "Wait. So we don't fry it?"
Orchid's eyes lit up. "Cooking! I can try roasting it with chocolat..."
Lucretia quickly waved her hands. "No no no, it's not food. It's for growing something special weapon."
Yetsan tilted his helmeted head. "A weapon you plant?"
Lucretia smiled cryptically. "Exactly. These are no ordinary seeds. They're magical fruit from the Dreamgrove tree. Plant them in the right place, and they'll become something you'll need. But only in the right place. You'll know when."
Yuuna studied hers closely, eyes sharp behind her unreadable expression. "It's a mana-reactive seed. Bound with morphic enchantment. Adaptive formation likely depends on environmental stimulus... fascinating."
"Right," Lucretia nodded, unfazed by the analysis. "Take care of them."
Each elf tucked the almondnut carefully into their magic bag, treating the gift with a mixture of reverence and curiosity. Kyle, ever the dramatist in his own way, slipped his seed behind three layers of banana snacks, constructing an overly elaborate barrier as if preparing for some fruit-based heist. Sakura, meticulous and food-focused as always, nestled hers gently beside a tin of emergency cookies, aligning it perfectly as if it were just another delicacy waiting its turn.
Jessica stored hers in a small side pouch, the same one she used for her sword oil and cleaning cloths, neatly placed and separated from her combat gear with quiet precision. She gave it a lingering glance before closing the flap, treating the object with quiet seriousness befitting her disciplined nature.
Adiw, practical and efficient, stowed his nut beneath a folded polishing cloth wrapped around a whetstone. His storage method suggested readiness for battle more than gardening, but he kept it nonetheless, more out of respect for Lucretia's gift than belief in its function. Still, he made sure it wouldn't rattle around when he moved.
Gigih, meanwhile, stared at his almondnut with an expression halfway between caution and scientific curiosity. After turning it over in his gloved fingers several times, he placed it between two thick spellbooks in his bag, pressed snug like a fragile artifact. His storage was less about protection and more about study, as if he fully intended to observe its behavior over the coming days. The magical seed had joined the ranks of other unpredictable things he carried, most of which had exploded at least once.
"Remember," Lucretia continued, her voice softer now. "Say hello to the dragons for me."
Fuhiken saluted playfully. "We'll try not to get eaten."
With an exaggerated twirl of her keyblade and a flourish that sent her twin-tails whipping through the air, Fahleena leapt onto a mossy stump like it was a royal podium. The morning light caught the glint of her blade as she struck a theatrical pose, one arm stretched toward the heavens, the other clutching the hilt of her beloved Keyblade of Destiny. Her voice rang out across the clearing, grand, dramatic, and completely over-the-top.
"By the sacred roll of fortune's die, by the ever-turning wheel of fate, and the thousand whispers of stardust carried on the breath of time, we, the Twelve Shards of Eternal Possibility, stride forth once again upon the veiled road! Bound not by chance, but chosen by destiny, our steps fall where the universe wills! Let misfortune flee, let probability bend, for our path is etched in the ink of legends yet unwritten!"
She paused just long enough for the invisible audience she surely imagined to applaud. The wind caught the corner of her cloak, lifting it just slightly, an accidental stage effect that only encouraged her further.
Jessica, standing to the side with arms crossed and katana at her back, gave the briefest of sighs. Her mouth twitched as she held back a smile, her shoulders shaking faintly in silent amusement. Of all the trials they would face ahead, none would ever match the unrelenting storm of Fahleena's theatrics.
---
The trees ahead grew too dense for the Stormrider Supreme Express IV to pass, its wide enchanted wheels and noble frame unsuited for the narrow, root-choked trail that led deeper into the southern glade. With no other choice, the group disembarked and continued their journey on foot. The forest air was cool and damp, rich with the scent of moss, bark, and distant blossoms. Shafts of golden sunlight pierced the canopy above, scattering like divine spotlights across the forest floor and illuminating patches of dew-covered ferns.
As they walked, Fahleena skipped ahead, arms swaying rhythmically with her keyblade resting across her shoulders. She began to hum softly, weaving a whimsical tune that rose and fell like a lullaby born from old myths. Then, unable to contain her energy, she added gentle lyrics in a lilting voice, something about the "wings of fortune" and the "moonlight dance of the luck-bound twelve." Her melody echoed faintly through the trees, carried on the breeze like a forgotten elven hymn. It wasn't clear if she was improvising or reciting a song she made up long ago, but it added an odd sense of enchantment to their march.
Somewhere near the back, Sinryo whispered something snarky to Kyle, who promptly shushed him, not wanting to break the spell of the moment.
As the group continued their walk beneath the dense canopy, the trail gradually widened into a soft clearing where rays of sunlight filtered like ethereal curtains. Ahead, two familiar figures stood mid-discussion. Wildan, leaning slightly against a tree trunk with his arms folded, and Legolas, standing upright with his usual stoic expression. Their voices were quiet but steady, carrying just enough for the approaching party to hear snippets of concern and strategy.
The moment the elf children and their companions came into view, Wildan and Legolas turned to greet them. There was no surprise on their faces, only the calm recognition of allies arriving at an opportune time.
The party slowed their pace, instinctively sensing a shift in mood. Though they were still within the bounds of their homeland, something in the air felt different now, like they were stepping beyond the familiar, toward threads of fate tangled just out of sight.
Legolas gave a curt nod. "Heading south?"
Fuhiken met his gaze and nodded back. "What's the situation?"
Wildan exhaled through his nose and rubbed the back of his neck. "Humans again. Four of them. They're near the southern outpost. No bloodshed, but... it's awkward."
That single word carried a weight of embarrassment none of them questioned.
Gabyola stepped forward, her tone measured. "We'll see for ourselves."
No one disagreed. With a silent gesture, Legolas turned and began down a narrow, winding trail veiled by thick underbrush. The others followed, the dense forest parting just enough to allow their passage. What lay ahead was uncertain, but their footsteps now traced the quiet edge of something unfolding, an unseen thread tugging them deeper into the tapestry of their next adventure.
---
Yuuna knelt by a tree root and pulled out a small rubik-cube-shaped object from her magic bag. With a quiet hum, it shifted and expanded into a magic carriage. Wildan and Legolas exchanged a brief glance, their eyes widening ever so slightly as they took in the sight before them, the gleaming frame of the Stormrider Supreme Express IV, complete with polished wood, enchanted glass, and the noble crest emblazoned proudly on its side, an unexpected fusion of craftsmanship and theatrical flair that neither of them had anticipated.
"That's... new," Wildan said, tilting his head.
Yetsan beamed with pride. "We built it. Ourselves."
On the side of the carriage, the proud emblem of a keyblade and a mana tree shone like the crest of a noble house. Gigih sighed in relief, hopping up into the wagon. "No more walking."
Fahleena reached into her bag. "Should we raise the flag?"
"No," Yuuna replied flatly. "The crest is enough. We're not a parade float."
"I mean, unless we are a circus," Adiw added with a smirk.
The crew piled in with the casual efficiency born of long travel together. Fuhiken climbed up to the driver's seat and glanced toward Wildan, patting the co-driver bench beside him in invitation.
"Might as well ride in comfort," his gesture implied. Wildan hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded, climbing aboard with practiced ease, folding his long limbs beside the eldest brother of the twelve.
Yetsan, after a moment of internal debate, opted for the back wagon rather than the front, his heavy full-body armor clanking slightly as he hoisted himself up. He preferred the open air, and perhaps he didn't entirely trust himself not to smudge the front cabin with dust from the trail.
As they prepared to depart, Sinryo leaned over toward Legolas. "What about you?"
The stoic swordsman gave the faintest smirk. "I'll follow above," he replied, already moving with fluid grace toward the trees.
Legolas vanished into the canopy, taking to the branches like a shadow blending into leaf and light. None questioned his ability, Legolas moved through forests as naturally as others breathed. With everyone aboard, Fuhiken placed both hands on the smooth steering wheel and tapped a rune-etched panel. The Stormrider Supreme Express IV shuddered gently as its mana engine stirred to life beneath the cabin floor, emitting a low, steady hum. With a quiet whir, the carriage eased forward, gliding onto the narrow forest path like a vessel born to move between trees.
Inside the sealed cabin, the girls settled in, Gabyola took the corner seat near the window, always poised. Jessica checked her katana's bindings once more before leaning back with folded arms. Sakura unpacked a small snack from her endless food pouch. Yuuna scribbled notes while silently monitoring the terrain. Orchid had already dozed off, her head bobbing against the cushioned wall. and Fahleena, humming yet another self-composed heroic anthem, began sketching another elaborate banner on her drawing pad.
Meanwhile, the back wagon was a storm of chaotic energy. Kyle immediately claimed the left side and sprawled with dramatic flair, only for Sinryo to shove in beside him, arguing about "optimal viewing angles" and "strategic snack access."
Yetsan settled cross-legged at the rear corner, polishing a spotless patch on his armored gauntlet with practiced irritation at the dirt around him. Gigih was already nose-deep in his black spellbook, lips moving in near-silent repetition of some incantation that involved far too many syllables for comfort.
The bickering between Kyle and Sinryo escalated quickly. What began as a dispute over seat territory devolved into an elbow-jabbing contest.
"I clearly claimed this spot first," Kyle huffed, tightening his grip on a snack pouch like it were a sacred artifact.
Sinryo shoved back with a grin. "Your claim is invalid. It lacks snacks, shade, and strategic defense."
"It has banana access, which is all I need!"
"I'm just saying, by wagon law, I have priority..."
"Oh shut up, there's no such law!"
They jostled again, knees knocking, bags sliding, their voices growing louder with every passing second. From his corner, Adiw exhaled slowly. His eye twitched. Without ceremony, he leaned forward and cracked both boys on the head with his fists, one thump each, clean and firm.
"Enough!!!"
The sound was dull, heavy, final. Kyle froze mid-retort, eyes wide. Sinryo blinked, hands halfway raised.
"Ow," Kyle mumbled.
"Agreed," Sinryo muttered, rubbing his scalp.
Adiw leaned back against the wagon's side, arms crossed, expression flat. "I don't care who sits where. Argue again, and I'll throw both of you off and let the chickens decide your worth."
Silence fell instantly. Even the wind seemed to pause. From the front cabin, the faint humming of the mana engine continued peacefully, oblivious to the justice just served in the back. Peace settled over the wagon again, punctuated only by the rhythmic roll of wheels and the soft rustle of leaves as the Stormrider Supreme Express IV journeyed deeper into the forest, the banner of the Twelve unraised but their purpose shining in every step.
-----
The carriage glided smoothly over uneven paths thanks to its enchanted suspension. After some time, they arrived at the southern outpost, a wooden structure nestled beneath a low cliff. The tension in the air was subtle but present.
Wildan stepped down from the cabin with measured calm, his gaze fixed toward the distant outpost. "It's better if only a few of us go. Let's not risk overwhelming them, the less they see, the better. If they're spies, even unintentional ones, we shouldn't give them more to report."
"But I want to see them," Sakura said, her pink hair bouncing as she nodded emphatically.
Yuuna reached into her magic bag and withdrew a bundle of black fabric. "Use this," she said, shaking out the Cloak of Blurr. "It should solve the problem."
Sakura draped herself in the Cloak of Blurr, pulling the hood over her head with quiet precision. The moment the fabric settled, her entire form began to shimmer, distorting subtly like a mirage on sunbaked stone. Her outline wavered, not vanishing, but shifting, never quite where the eye expected it to be. To some, especially those standing beside her, she still looked perfectly normal, if a bit dim around the edges. But to others, her presence became unsettlingly ambiguous, her shape blurred at the edges, her steps silent, her features obscured as if viewed through rippling water. Even her voice, when she spoke, carried a strange resonance, as though two indistinct tones echoed in imperfect harmony. It was not invisibility, but something far more uncanny.
Together, Wildan and Sakura entered the outpost. The guards, elves, nodded respectfully as they passed. Within the wooden prison sat four humans, dejected and dirt-smudged. Gareth leaned against the bars. Sir Aldric stared into the void. Akira looked mildly annoyed, while Celestine seemed moments from tears.
Erestor waved cheerfully. "Oh hey, elder Wildan. And... oh, a new visitor!"
Sakura stepped silently into the humans' field of view, her blurry form gliding across the wooden floor like a wraith untethered by the laws of reality. The moment their eyes caught her presence, every trace of exhaustion drained from their faces, replaced by a raw, bone-deep terror. Sir Aldric's breath hitched in his throat, his eyes widening in primal dread.
"L-Lich…" he croaked, the word barely audible, as if naming it might invite death.
Celestine let out a strangled gasp and stumbled backward, clutching her robes in trembling fists. Her knees buckled as she pressed herself into the corner of the cell, wide-eyed like a child glimpsing the nightmare that waited just beyond the firelight.
"It's come for us...!" she whimpered, her voice cracking under the weight of hysteria.
Gareth tried to speak, his mouth opened and moved, but no sound emerged. His throat convulsed, as if language itself had abandoned him in the presence of the incomprehensible. His gaze locked on Sakura, and a cold sweat ran down his temples. Akira's instinct kicked in. She backed away, slow and deliberate at first, then quickly retreated to the far wall, one hand groping behind her for a weapon that wasn't there. Her breath was sharp and erratic, eyes wide with the look of someone facing something not just dangerous, but utterly wrong. The Cloak of Blurr twisted Sakura's image just enough to make her look unreal, like a being that didn't belong to this world, or any sane one. To the humans, it wasn't an elf child they were seeing, it was a formless specter, a creeping omen draped in silence and shadow.
Sakura blinked. "Um. uncle Wildan, what should we do with them?"
"What do you suggest?" Wildan asked.
Sakura stood still for a moment, her blurred form swaying faintly, like a specter caught in slow motion. Beneath the hood of her enchanted cloak, her eyes glinted with quiet curiosity, not malice, but something more unsettling in its purity. Then, in a voice that was soft, almost gentle, she spoke.
"Send them back to the human realm."
The words fell like frost, calm and measured, yet utterly alien. To the elves, it was a simple statement. But to the humans, it echoed with layered meaning, spoken not in anger, but with an eerie detachment that made it far more terrifying. The harmonized distortion of her voice, two unplaceable tones in perfect sync, didn't sound like speech at all. It sounded like something ancient remembering how to mimic language.
"H-Human realm…" Gareth's jaw trembled. as though trying to anchor himself in the familiar. His eyes darted to his companions. "We're… in the underworld?"
The sheer idea settled over them like a suffocating blanket. The wooden walls of the outpost suddenly felt colder, smaller, as if warped into a prison built not by elves, but by fate itself. The flicker of torchlight cast Sakura's distorted shadow across the floor in grotesque patterns, stretching like claws.
Celestine covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. Akira stood frozen, her earlier composure shattered. Even Sir Aldric, hardened by battle and burden, now looked pale and hollow.
Elaria, standing nearby, arched an eyebrow. "I don't like this."
"They didn't hurt anyone," Wildan said reasonably. "Killing them would cause more diplomatic trouble than it's worth."
Legolas, just arriving, crossed his arms. "But they were peeking on bathing elves."
"Which turned out to be men," Erestor added helpfully. "They've suffered enough."
Sakura stepped closer to the cell, her eyes wide and curious. "Do human adventurers always look like this up close?"
The human party whimpered as one, a collective, involuntary sound of minds cracking beneath pressure they couldn't name. Sakura, still cloaked in the Cloak of Blurr's eerie enchantment, took a single step closer to the wooden cell. Curious, she tilted her head, an innocent gesture under normal circumstances, but beneath the influence of the cloak's magic, it became something far more disturbing.
As her head moved, her hands rose ever so slightly, palms half-turned as if beckoning or reaching for something unseen. The motion wasn't aggressive, it was slow, graceful, and completely devoid of urgency, like the silent drift of something submerged. But to the human adventurers, who saw only a shimmering, warped silhouette with an echoing, indistinct voice, it was the final unraveling of their courage.
The ambient distortion of her form, the overlapping edges, the subtle lag of motion, the voice that sounded like two people whispering at once, was the kind of wrongness that bypassed logic and struck at the primal mind.
Celestine gasped sharply, eyes rolling back as she dropped in a boneless heap to the floor, robes crumpling beneath her. Gareth's legs buckled next, his face contorting in silent horror before he collapsed beside her. Sir Aldric, gripping the wooden bars of the cell with trembling fingers, made a desperate attempt to rise and shield them, but his strength failed him. His knees gave way and he sank with a heavy thud, stunned into helpless stillness.
Akira, always the calmest, lasted a heartbeat longer. Her back pressed against the cell wall, fingers clutching an imaginary bowstring, eyes wide and unblinking. But even she couldn't endure the weight of that moment. Her breath hitched, chest heaving, then her body slid down the wall, a silent surrender into a panic-induced stupor.
By the time the echo of Sakura's soft, distorted voice faded, all four humans lay unconscious in the wooden cell, silent, pale, and completely overwhelmed by the blurred horror they had just witnessed.
"Well, that was... effective," Wildan muttered.
Sakura walking back at the carriage, the others waited. Gigih had almost memorized his newest spell. Kyle and Sinryo were debating which fruit would win in a brawl, banana or apple, while Adiw rolled his eyes at them both.
Sakura returned and gave a small nod. "Problem solved."
The group continued their journey south, leaving the outpost behind. Legolas and Elaria would lead a detachment to escort the humans beyond Etheria's borders.
---
Later that evening, beneath the waning light of dusk, the four human adventurers stood just outside the edge of Etheria's forest. Elaria and Legolas had fulfilled their duty, escorting them to the boundary with silent vigilance. The moment the towering trees thinned and the dense shadows gave way to open hills, the elves turned back without a word, vanishing into the underbrush like the forest itself had reclaimed them.
The adventurers remained in stunned silence for a while, standing beneath the open sky. The cool night air was a relief, but their hearts were far from at ease.
"I-I don't want to go near that forest again… ever…" Celestine, clutching the hem of her robe, finally broke the quiet. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
"It wasn't just the cloak," Sir Aldric muttered, usually calm and stoic, stared off into the darkness with a haunted look. "I've fought ghouls, banshees, even a bone wyvern once... but that, whatever that thing was, it didn't move like a person."
"She didn't blink," Akira added. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, like she was still seeing that shifting blur of fabric and form. "It tilted its head like it understood us, but not in a human way. It was like being watched by something that used to be alive and just... remembered how to act."
"She said 'human realm'... not 'your kingdom,' not 'your people'. 'human realm' Like we're... like we're from another plane entirely." Gareth sat down on a nearby rock, rubbing his face with both hands.
"Do you think she was undead?" Akira gave a slow nod.
A cold silence settled over them. Then Sir Aldric said, "No. Worse. Undead things act on instinct. Rage. Hunger. This… she looked at us like we were already dead. Or like we didn't matter."
"Was it a lich?" Celestine's voice trembled.
Gareth shook his head slowly. "If that was a lich, then everything we've ever read about them is wrong. That thing didn't raise death, it was death, dressed like a child."
Akira hugged her arms tightly. "We should've never come here. We didn't belong. This whole forest, it's not just sacred, it's... ancient. Alive in a way we don't understand. We thought we were gathering potion ingredients, but we were poking around in the garden of gods."
"And the flowers were so beautiful," Celestine's tears finally spilled over. she choked out, burying her face in her sleeves. "I thought maybe it wasn't so bad at first. But now I can't even close my eyes without seeing that blurry face."
"Don't remind me of it," Aldric muttered harshly. "Please."
". . . . . . . . ." They fell silent again.
After several minutes, Gareth stood and faced the others. "When we get back, I'm putting this in the report. The cloak. The voice. The humans-shouldn't-know attitude. Everything. If there's even a chance that was a lich or something beyond it, we need to warn the guild. Maybe even the Crown."
"Do you really think anyone will believe us?" Akira looked at him, her usual confidence gone.
"I don't care. I believe us. And I'm buying every anti-undead charm I can carry."Gareth stared at the forest one last time, the moon rising behind the branches like a cold silver eye.
The others nodded, still shaken, but grateful for the distance growing between them and the heart of the forest. Above, the moon glowed, beautiful, distant, and yet somehow just as terrifying as what they had left behind.
---