I woke up before the sun had even decided to fully show its face.
The light was gray, and that cold, pre-dawn blue filled the room. I stretched my limbs, surprised that I had slept without nightmares and without dying. A great achievement for a new day.
"Well," I whispered to myself, rubbing my eyes. "The office worker's biological clock doesn't fail. I'm awake at a time that would make roosters feel ashamed."
I rose quietly, making sure not to make any sound. I imagined the village outside was deep in slumber. Elves? They live for thousands of years, right? If I had a thousand years to live, I'd spend the first five hundred of them sleeping until noon. They must be asleep now, dreaming of trees, poetry, and singing.
I planned to go out, stand before the sunrise with a dramatic look, and maybe do some stretching exercises while everyone was asleep. I'd look cool and mysterious when they woke up and found me ready.
I opened the wooden door very slowly, ready to enjoy the absolute silence.
"Good morning!"
"Watch your step, the path is a bit slippery!"
"Finished polishing the arrows, Lorien?"
I froze in my place, my hand still on the doorknob, my mouth slightly ajar.
The village was... a beehive.
Not a single elf was asleep. Everyone, literally everyone, was awake.
I saw a group doing impossibly flexible stretching exercises in the square. I saw others meticulously gathering dew from leaves with surgical care. Elf children were running around carrying baskets. Even the old Sage I met yesterday was standing there, directing a group of youngsters, looking more energetic than I was after five cups of coffee.
"What is wrong with these people?" I muttered in disbelief. "Don't they like to sleep?"
I thought a long lifespan meant relaxation, but it seemed the Elves treated life with the principle: "We have lots of time, so let's use every second of it to make regular humans feel inferior."
The beautiful girl from last night—the last supper waitress—walked past, carrying a large water jug with incredible lightness. She saw me standing there in my sleep clothes with messy hair.
"Good morning, guest!" she said with a smile too bright for this hour. "You are a little late in waking up, it's almost mid-dawn!"
Late? It wasn't even five thirty yet!
"Oh, yes..." I said, quickly trying to arrange my hair with my hand. "I was... contemplating the ceiling. Human ritual, don't worry about it."
I looked around. Everyone was working hard, actively, and with annoying elegance.
I suddenly felt like the only lazy person in a hundred-kilometer radius.
"Fine," I sighed, stepping out of the hut. "It seems sleeping here is only for the weak. Time to leave before they ask me to join that group yoga session."
Only a few minutes passed before the same girl returned. She was carrying another tray, and this time, breakfast looked... greener. Lots of vegetables, a suspiciously green juice, and bread that looked so healthy it made me miss the saturated fats of my old world.
"Here you go, sir!" she said, placing the tray with an innocent smile, her violet eyes sparkling with childish curiosity.
I squatted down and started eating. I had to be nice. She's just a hardworking little kid.
"Thank you, little one," I said in a gentle, paternal tone, the kind we use with kindergarten kids. "You're very energetic. Shouldn't you be in school right now? Or playing with dolls?"
She looked at me in surprise, tilting her head slightly. "School? We learn from the forest. And dolls... I stopped playing with them decades ago."
I chuckled softly while biting the bread. "What a mature child. How old are you? Eight? Nine?"
I estimated her age at eight years at most. Her height, her childish features, the innocence radiating from her.
She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled shyly. "Oh, you flatter me, sir! Eight years? No, I am still in my early youth, only 76 years old."
"..."
Time stopped.
The bread I was chewing suddenly turned to rock in my throat. The green juice nearly came out of my nose. I coughed violently, hitting my chest hard as I stared at her with bulging eyes.
"H-how old?!" The word was strangled.
"76 years old," she repeated simply, as if saying it was seven in the morning. "I'll celebrate my 77th birthday next leaf-fall season."
I wiped my mouth in disbelief.
Seventy-six years old?
I looked at her again. The wrinkle-free skin. The innocent eyes. The short stature.
In my world, a 76-year-old woman is a grandmother sitting in a rocking chair telling stories about "the good old days." Here, this "grandmother" looked like a third-grader carrying breakfast trays.
"I... I am 27 years old," I mumbled softly. I suddenly felt like a baby next to her.
"Oh!" she gasped, looking at me with wide eyes full of pity. "You are just an infant! My goodness, how did they let you travel alone at this age? Where's your mother?"
I felt my dignity shatter into tiny pieces.
A minute ago, I was treating her like a little girl. Now, she was looking at me as if I needed my diaper changed.
"We humans... we grow up quickly," I said with forced seriousness, trying to regain some prestige. "I am an adult in my world. Very much an adult. I pay taxes and have back pain."
She gave me that condescending smile that adults give to small children when they talk nonsense. "Of course, little infant. Eat your food so you can grow big and strong."
She took the empty tray and left, leaving me staring into space.
"76 years old..." I whispered to myself. "This world... is going to be very complicated."
I had barely processed the "child-grandmother" shock when she poked her head back through the door.
"Infant Sir... I mean, Guest," she quickly corrected herself, stifling a giggle. "Sage Elariun requests to see you in his office now."
I stood up, dusting the crumbs off my clothes. Curiosity was gnawing at me.
"Tell me," I asked her as I followed her out of the hut. "What is your relationship to that Sage?"
"He's my grandfather," she replied simply, lightly hopping over a massive tree root.
I stopped for a moment to do a quick calculation.
If she's seventy-six and looks like a child... and her grandfather looks like an old man...
"So how old is he?" I asked cautiously. "A thousand years? Two thousand? Did he live during the dinosaurs?"
"Grandpa?" She thought for a bit. "I think he celebrated his 750th birthday last year. He's still young at heart, but he likes to grumble like an old man."
"750..." I swallowed. "Young at heart."
We reached the Sage's office. The office was, as expected, stunning. Walls of living wood, shelves full of ancient scrolls, and the smell of books and parchment.
Sage Elariun sat behind his massive desk, looking at me with that penetrating gaze that makes you feel like you've done something wrong even if you haven't.
"Good morning, Human," his deep voice said. "Or good evening, depending on your wake-up time."
"That was just once," I defended myself, then bowed slightly with respect. "Good morning, Sage."
He waved his hand. "I have news that might interest you. You are lucky, and your luck surpasses your laziness."
"Thanks... I think?"
"Tomorrow, at the first sign of dawn—and I mean the first, not the second or third—a trade caravan will depart from our village to the human city of 'Arcadia'. We are selling rare herbs, enchanted textiles, and some handcrafted artifacts."
My eyes widened. "That's... that's excellent! Can I join them?"
Traveling alone in a monster-filled forest was a terrifying idea, especially since my "Hour of Power" required me to die first to use it. Traveling with a group of armed and powerful Elves? That was the deal of a lifetime.
"You may," the Sage nodded, then narrowed his eyes. "However, there is one condition."
"Anything," I said eagerly. "I'll carry the boxes, I'll cook, I'll sing for you..."
He interrupted me with a raised hand. "The condition is: Waking Up."
Silence.
"Excuse me?"
"The caravan moves before the sun touches the horizon. We wait for no one. And we certainly won't wait for a human who enjoys 'contemplating the ceiling' as I heard."
He leaned forward, his face becoming deadly serious.
"If you are a single minute late, you will find yourself alone in the forest. And the monsters here enjoy dining on humans who wake up late for breakfast."
I swallowed. The message was clear.
"I will be awake," I promised seriously. "I will sleep in front of the caravan's location tonight if I have to."
The Sage settled back into his chair. "Good. You may leave now. Use your day for something useful... or go back to sleep, the choice is yours, but only blame yourself tomorrow."
I left the office feeling a mixture of relief and terror.
I had a safe ride. All I had to do was overcome my greatest enemy in this world so far... the alarm clock.