The fight was brief but educational. Captain Steelheart moved with the precision of someone who'd been trained by professionals—every strike calculated, every movement efficient. She took down three goblins in the time it took me to dispatch two. Then why the hell did she fail to take that stupid wyvern in the first chapter.
[...]
Lyralei, meanwhile, turned out to be a mage. She threw some kind of nature magic that caused vines to erupt from the ground and strangle two more goblins, which was both effective and mildly horrifying.
"Nice teamwork," I said as we surveyed the aftermath.
"We've had practice," Captain Steelheart said.
"Working together, I mean," Lyralei added quickly. "Against common threats. Professionally."
"Right. Professionally."
They were both being way too careful about their word choices. Either they had a romantic history, or one of them had tried to kill the other at some point. Possibly both.
As we continued through the pass, I spotted something interesting in the distance: stone figures moving through the forest with the steady, purposeful gait of automated sentries.
"Golems," I said, pointing them out.
"Border patrol," Lyralei explained. "They're programmed to recognize clan members and approved visitors. Since I'm with you, they shouldn't be hostile."
"Shouldn't be?"
"Well, there's always the possibility that someone's reprogrammed them since I left. Or that they've developed independent thoughts about human visitors. Or that they're malfunctioning."
"You're really selling this whole 'diplomatic immunity' thing."
The golems noticed us and began moving in our direction with the implacable determination of automated security systems everywhere. They were smaller than the one I'd fought earlier, but there were six of them, and they moved with coordinated precision.
"Greetings," the lead golem said in a voice like grinding stone. "State your business in Silverleaf territory."
"Lyralei Moonwhisper, returning from a diplomatic mission," Lyralei said formally. "These are my human associates, operating under guest privileges."
The golems processed this information with the kind of deliberate consideration that suggested very thorough programming.
"Identity confirmed," the lead golem said. "Guest privileges acknowledged. Welcome home, Lyralei Moonwhisper. Humans, you are granted safe passage under diplomatic protection. Please remain with your escort at all times."
"See?" Lyralei said as the golems resumed their patrol routes. "No problems at all."
"That was surprisingly reasonable," I admitted.
"Elves take hospitality laws very seriously. Killing guests reflects poorly on the entire clan."
"Good to know I'm protected by social convention."
***
The Silverleaf settlement appeared gradually as we walked through the forest—first as glimpses of treehouses through the canopy, then as rope bridges spanning between massive trunks, and finally as a proper elvish city built in harmony with the forest itself.
It was genuinely beautiful. Also completely impractical from a defense standpoint, but I kept that observation to myself.
The first elves to spot us did a classic double-take. One moment they were going about their business, the next they were staring at Lyralei like she'd returned from the dead.
"Lyralei!" a young elf called out. "You're back! We thought—when you didn't return—"
"I'm fine, Silvion," she called back. "Just ran into some complications."
"But what are the humans doing here?" another elf asked, with the kind of tone usually reserved for discussing invasive species.
"This better not be about water negotiations," a third elf said suspiciously. "Because we've already told the guild our position on pricing."
I couldn't help myself. "Quick question—has anyone considered just... digging wells? You know, instead of relying entirely on one magical lake that's currently occupied by a dragon?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Wells?" one of the elves repeated, like I'd suggested they try breathing underwater.
"You know, holes in the ground that access groundwater? Pretty standard technology. Been around for thousands of years."
More silence.
"We..." an older elf said slowly, "we are people of the forest. We live in harmony with nature's gifts. The Crystal Lake has provided for us for generations."
"Right, but backup water sources are just good planning. What if the lake got polluted? What if there was a drought? What if, hypothetically, a dragon decided to use it as a bathtub?"
"That's..." The elf looked genuinely troubled by this concept. "That's not how we do things."
"Maybe it should be."
Captain Steelheart elbowed me in the ribs. "Diplomatic mission," she whispered. "Not engineering consultation."
"Fine, fine. Sorry. Please continue with your traditional methods."
***
What followed was another "hear me out" conversation, but this time it was the elves doing the talking. A small crowd gathered around us, and what started as curious questions quickly turned into a full-scale community meeting.
"You brought humans here?" an elderly elf asked Lyralei.
"These humans helped me escape from the spider caves," she explained. "And Kenji here has experience with dragon-related problems."
"Experience with dragons?" another elf asked skeptically.
I gestured at Sassy, who was perched on my shoulder looking adorable. "I'm raising one."
This caused quite a stir. Apparently elves had strong opinions about dragon custody arrangements.
"That's a baby," one of them pointed out.
"Everyone starts somewhere," I said.
"But our dragon is fully grown and actively hostile."
"Details."
After about twenty minutes of back-and-forth, during which I learned more about elf politics than I ever wanted to know, we finally got permission to enter the settlement proper.
"Since you claim to have a solution to our dragon problem," the elderly elf said formally, "you are welcome as honored guests. But if this turns out to be some kind of human trick..."
"It's not a trick," I said. "It's just a guy with a sword and a complete disregard for reasonable risk assessment."
"That's... actually reassuring, somehow."
As we walked deeper into the settlement, I couldn't help but notice the evidence of their water crisis. The decorative fountains were dry. The communal baths were closed. Even the plants looked a little wilted.
"You know," I said to Lyralei, "for people with a water shortage, you're still managing to sell quite a bit to the humans."
"Business is business," she said with a slight wince. "The clan needs income to maintain operations."
"Even when you barely have enough for yourselves?"
"Especially then. Water might be scarce, but it's also our most valuable export."
I stared at her. "You're literally selling the water you need to survive."
"Economics is complicated."
"Economics is insane."
Captain Steelheart nodded. "Finally, something we can all agree on."
As we approached what looked like the settlement's main administrative building—a massive treehouse with multiple levels and more rope bridges than seemed structurally necessary—I found myself wondering what other perfectly obvious solutions these people had overlooked in favor of tradition.
But that, apparently, would have to wait for the next chapter. We had a dragon to deal with first.
A dragon who specialized in psychological warfare and had already defeated three expeditions through the power of strategic humiliation.
This was going to be interesting.