The elf village of Sylvara shimmered beneath the golden glow of the late afternoon sun.
Ancient trees rose like living towers, their massive branches woven together to form archways of leaf and light. Glowing moonleaves hung like lanterns between trunks, bathing the paths in a soft silver radiance. Music drifted through the air—harps, flutes, and laughter blending into a harmony that spoke of peace.
Today was meant to be a celebration.
Near the village square, a group of young elves gathered beneath a flowering arbor, their voices low with excitement.
"Is it really happening today?" asked the first elf, her pale-gold braids swaying as she leaned forward.
"Yes," the second elf replied, barely containing his grin. "The duel that will decide Princess Liza's husband… and the next Head."
"I heard both contenders are terrifyingly strong," another elf added. "Zoa fights like lightning itself. And Kenya—he bends the wind to his will."
"Then we should hurry," said the first elf, grabbing the second elf's hand. "I won't miss a single strike."
Laughing, they vanished into the crowd flowing toward the grand arena carved into the roots of the World Tree.
The village head's house
Deep within the House of living wood and crystal, tension filled the private chambers of the royal family.
Princess Liza, eldest daughter of Head, stood on the balcony overlooking the arena.
"I don't understand why you're both so upset," she said softly, turning toward her sisters.
"And I don't understand why you're accepting this," Eris snapped. Her auburn hair framed a face flushed with anger. "You're being forced into a marriage for a crown you already deserve."
"Eris," Sara said calmly, leaning against a carved pillar. "You know why."
"Because of some ancient law written by men afraid of powerful women?" Eris shot back.
Liza's hands clenched. "Enough. Father is ill. The kingdom needs stability. I won't let pride tear our people apart."
Her voice trembled despite her resolve.
Eris fell silent, guilt flickering across her face. "I… I didn't mean—"
Before she could finish, the chamber doors opened.
Head entered, his once-commanding frame weakened by illness. His golden hair had faded to silver, but his eyes remained sharp.
"My daughters," he said warmly. "The people are waiting."
They bowed together.
"Come," the Head continued. "Today, the future of our village is decided."
The Arena
The arena was alive.
Elves filled the natural bowl formed by the World Tree's roots. Green and silver banners fluttered in the breeze as cheers shook the air.
The host stepped onto the central platform, his voice amplified by magic.
"People of Sylvara!" he cried. "Are you ready for the duel that will decide our future?"
"YEAHHH!" the crowd roared.
"Then welcome our first champion—Zoa, son of Prince"
Zoa entered amid thunderous applause, tall and broad-shouldered, his blade gleaming at his side.
"And our second champion—Kenya, son of Chief Advisor"
Kenya strode forward with calm confidence, wind swirling gently around his feet as he bowed to the royal box.
"Let the duel begin!"
The two warriors circled each other, eyes locked—
BOOM!
A violent explosion tore through the air.
Flames erupted from the village center. Black smoke surged skyward.
Screams followed.
A bloodied elf soldier stumbled into the arena, collapsing to one knee.
"Run!" he gasped. "Demons! The demons have attacked!"
Panic exploded through the crowd.
"Do not panic!" King Head's voice thundered, strengthened by magic. "All soldiers—defend the village!"
Guards surrounded the Head as he rushed forward, sword drawn.
Liza turned sharply to her sisters. "Sara—get your bow. Eris, stay in the palace."
"No," Eris said firmly. "I'm coming."
"This isn't a game—"
"You always say Father underestimates us," Eris shot back. "Don't do the same to me."
Liza hesitated… then nodded. "Fine. Stay close."
Together, they ran toward the rising smoke.
The Village Center
Sylvara burned.
Homes of living wood cracked and collapsed as fire spread through the streets. Elf warriors clashed desperately with hulking demons—red-skinned, horned creatures wielding flaming weapons.
"Where's Father?" Eris whispered, fear creeping into her voice.
A massive shadow loomed over the square.
A towering demon stepped forward, twice the height of any elf. Black horns curled from his skull, and molten veins glowed beneath his cracked skin. In his hand, he carried something round and dripping.
"My name is Kamas," the demon bellowed. "Sixth Sinner of the Demon King's Sinister Six."
He released his grip.
The object rolled to a stop at the sisters' feet.
It was Father's severed head.
"Father—!" Sara screamed, collapsing.
Eris fell beside the head, shaking, unable to touch it.
Liza stood frozen for a heartbeat… then raised her sword.
"I'll kill you," she whispered.
Tears carved tracks through ash on her cheeks.
She charged.
Her blade bit deep into demon wrist. Black blood hissed and smoked on contact.
Kamas sneered. "Cute."
His axe descended like judgment.
Thud.
Liza blocked—barely.
Her sword exploded into splinters.
The force hurled her across the square. She hit stone hard. Blood bloomed beneath her.
"LIZA!" Eris's scream was pure terror.
Kamas pivoted, single glowing eye fixing on her. "Ah. The Blessed Elf."
An arrow punched through that eye with wet precision.
MOVE! Sara shouted, already nocking another.
They dragged Liza's limp form between them and fled—into the smoke, into the trees, into the unknown.
Behind them Sylvara burned.
Ahead lay the Forbidden Forest, its ancient seal pulsing with warning light.
"We can't go in there," Eris gasped, lungs burning.
Sara didn't slow. "Stay here and we die screaming."
Eris slammed her palm against the glowing barrier.
Crack.
Magic shattered like glass.
Darkness swallowed them whole.
And somewhere deeper in that forbidden dark, something ancient stirred