Elf Queenria's face was etched with grave concern. She hadn't sensed A'dai and Stella entering the Great Wildwood; her daughter's royal Fey essence had dwindled to a near-extinguished spark. Only when they breached the shimmering wards of Sylvan Haven did a ghostly thread of familiar energy touch the Queen's awareness. She flew out, swift as a forest breeze, and caught the tail end of A'dai's conversation with the gate-guard. Her heart clenched as she saw Stella floating limply in the sacred waters of the Dunce Pool. With a flick of her wrist, she lifted her daughter, pouring her own potent Life Rockforce-Rockforce into Stella's parched magical pathways. At Sunset City, she'd been powerless to help; restoring the Royal Bloodline required the sacred nexus of the Dunce Pool and the World Heart Tree. She'd calculated the dwindling spark could endure the journey home… but that was over a month ago. Anxiety had gnawed at her for days, forcing her to dispatch patrols beyond the Wildwood's edge.
A'dai, mistaking her silence for anger, was drowning in guilt. *If only I hadn't been so reckless,* he thought grimly. *That reckless Lightning Cascade spell because I couldn't read the Inquisitor Chief's true intent… It nearly killed me, wasted precious time, and brought Stella to this edge.*
Four Archdruids hovered around the Queen, chanting ancient Sylvan verses. Rings of verdant energy pulsed from their forms, coalescing around Stella. Sylvaria cried out, sending a lance of jade-green energy into the World Heart Tree. The ancient giant trembled, then thick vines snaked out, gently cocooning Stella's body, leaving only her face exposed as she was lowered back into the life-giving waters.
Elf Queenria sagged, leaning heavily on Auden for support. Since unleashing the ultimate 'Song of Verdant Growth', her own power had been a shadow of its former self. The desperate surge to save Stella had bled her nearly dry. "Auntie?" A'dai asked urgently, dripping wet from his plunge into the pool moments earlier – a mishap born of sheer relief. "Stella?"
A weary smile touched Sylvaria's lips. "The spark holds. Rest and the Pool's essence will revive her. Thanks to you, A'dai. That final surge… you reached the Pool just in time. The Pool's innate magic preserved the last ember." She placed a hand on his shoulder, exhaustion warring with profound gratitude. "You bore my daughter safely home. You've saved more than just her life this day; you've preserved the lineage of my people. The Elfkin owe you an unpayable debt."
Mystic Night draped Sylvan Haven in a cloak of ethereal beauty. River danced upon the Dunce Pool, catching moonglow. Most Sprites had retired; only patrols remained awake. A'dai, Rock, and Rockforce sat by the water's edge, the burden finally lifted. The task was done, though the loss of fourteen kin weighed heavy. Yet Elf Queenria's words rang true: Stella's return safeguarded countless future lives.
"You headin' back to that Gorith guy?" Rock asked, his gaze lost in the mist.
"Yeah," A'dai nodded. "Once Stella's stronger. Seven years is too long. Gorith taught me everything. Tired of all the deceit out there. Just want peace." His knuckles whitened. "Maybe the Enchanted Woods are the only place for that."
"What about Mystic MoonMystic Moon?" Rock pressed. "And your uncle's blood?"
The names struck deep. "Forget Mystic MoonMystic Moon," A'dai said flatly. "She belongs elsewhere. My uncle's justice… I'll find those assassins. Every year, I'll hunt. I'll find their nest."
Rock gripped A'dai's shoulder. "Tandor't sell yourself short, kid. A man fights for his future."
Rockforce chuckled, breaking the tension. "Pot callin' kettle, Rock? Seen you makin' eyes at Maiden Cloud plenty." He nudged Rock, who stiffened.
"Just friends," Rock muttered, face flushing unseen in the dark.
A'dai smiled thinly. "Can't back you this time, Rock. It's obvious."
Rock sighed, the sound heavy. "She's everything… gentle, kind… reminds me of Cloud. But Cloud's shadow… How could I pursue Maiden Cloud? And her man…" He paused, the deeper fear surfacing. "How long do Elfkin live?"
A'dai blinked. "Centuries. Maiden Cloud's over a century, looks barely older than me."
"Exactly," Rock said, his voice rough. "She's over a century? Looks my age. What about when she's two hundred? Still young, like the Queen maybe. Me? I'm pushing thirty now. When I'm sixty? Seventy? An old man. She's timeless. And lifespan? Humans flicker out in a heartbeat compared to Elfkin." He looked out over the moonlit water, his pain palpable. "She'd bind herself to me for life, by their law. I'd steal her future. Her place is here."
A'dai and Rockforce fell silent, the profound truth settling like stone. The cool breeze off the water seemed laden with sorrow.
"So… just walk?" A'dai finally asked.
Rock looked up, his expression bleak. "Run, while we still can. Maybe distance blunts the ache… for us and them." He glanced at A'dai meaningfully. "Same problem hits you harder, kid."
"Huh?"
"Stella." Rock's half-smile held no mirth. "You blind? Way she watches you? Frets over you? Didn't see that panic when you were laid out bleeding in Sunset? Ask Maiden Cloud. Ain't just respect."
A'dai stared, stunned. Stella? Him? "No… Impossible. She's…"
Rockforce clapped him on the back. "True as the sky, brother. Plain as day."
A'dai felt unmoored. *Stella?* He'd thought of her only as family. Rock's logic was terrifyingly sound. *This… this is impossible.*
The solution crystallized in the oppressive silence. "Tonight," Rock declared, standing abruptly. "Before dawn. Before we drown in goodwill. Leave a message." He gestured to a patch of bare earth by the bank.
A'dai stepped forward, focused, extending a finger. Emerald-tinged light – his Life Rockforce-Shear energy – flickered, etching words into the soft soil: *Elf Queenria – Duty done. Urgent paths call us onward. Forgive our silent departure. Travel safe. - A'dai.* As he wrote, he felt an unfamiliar clarity. The golden energy core in his chest glowed faintly, lending surprising precision to his silver core's power.
Dawn found them beyond the Wildwood's edge, breathing the sharp air of the plains. Rock stood silent, staring back at the mist-shrouded forest heartbreak etched on his face. Maiden Cloud's image burned behind his eyes.
Days later, they parted ways at the edge of a vast, wind-swept prairie. Rock entrusted A'dai with his meticulously marked map. "Find your master, kid. Train hard. The world won't wait." Rock's voice was rough with emotion as he and Rockforce turned south, towards the hills of home.
Alone, a deep hollowness settled over A'dai. The ghost of Eowyn's sacrifice, Mystic MoonMystic Moon's bright spirit now distant, the boisterous companionship of the Rocks – all gone. He shook himself, unfolding the map. *North. Through the Girllian plains, into the Iron Kingdom, then to the mist-locked Enchanted Woods.*
Ten days later, exhaustion clinging to his bones, A'dai pushed open the worn hide flap of a large communal tent in a bustling Girllian settlement – the Windbone Clan's gathering place. The air inside was thick with the mingled scents of sweat, seared meat, and spices. Men and women, their skin the color of dark earth, faces hard and kind, were hoisting carcasses – the vital bounty of the season's hunt.
A'dai fit in, yet stood out. Leaner than the burly clansmen but radiating an intensity that drew gazes. He heaved a side of cured beef onto his shoulder as if it weighed no more than a deer hide, sweat tracing paths through the dust on his neck.
Elder Leaf Windbone, the tribe's wizened master butcher, watched the young traveler work. "Haven't seen the likes of you carryin' the whole beast afore, A'dai," he called out, admiration warring with concern. He tossed a waterskin. A'dai caught it and gulped the strong, tangy mare's milk.
Around them, the organized chaos of preserving the clan's lifeblood continued. For ten days, A'dai had immersed himself in this rhythm. The simple labor, the clear skies, the uncomplicated honesty of the Girllian Nomads – it offered a balm his battered spirit craved. No masks, no hidden knives, just effort and shared survival.
Elder Leaf Windbone ambled closer. "The Plains treat you well, traveler? Strong hands, strong back. There's good work here. Could find you a sturdy lass too, settle down. Plenty eyes followin' a man who lifts a steer like it's firewood!" He chuckled.
A'dai lowered the waterskin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze drifted north, towards the distant mountains marking the Iron Kingdom. "It's a good life, Elder Leaf Windbone," he said, his voice quiet but resolute. "One I respect. But my path runs a different way."
Elder Leaf Windbone studied his sharp profile, the resolve in the traveler's dark eyes. He nodded slowly, understanding blooming in his ancient eyes. "Figured as much. Storm in a man's soul don't often find peace in stillness." He put a gnarled hand on A'dai's corded forearm. "The Wind remembers friends. If the road ever breaks you, if that storm gets too fierce… this hearth welcomes you. Remember that, son."
A'dai felt the simple truth of the words settle in his chest. He dipped his head in silent acknowledgment. "I'll remember."
Later, under a quilt of stars and plunging temperature, A'dai shouldered the worn rucksack Elder Leaf Windbone's clan had given him, heavy with travel bread, jerky, and hard cheese – payment in kind. Enough for the mountain passes. He touched the cold weight beneath his shirt, the dreaded Blackthorn Sword. One last look at Elder Leaf Windbone's sleeping form, the crackle of the brazier dying down.
Then A'dai Ghoststalker slipped from the tent, melting into the vast, whispering darkness of the plains, the call of a lost master pulling him towards the mist-shrouded woods. The wind carried the faintest echo of the Windbone Clan's farewell.