In a spacious chamber filled with strange illustration magic, a bespectacled, dour-faced yet oddly cute girl watched the sheets of paper floating before her while calmly eating cookies and washing them down with milk.
Aside from her, there were two frightened, blue-skinned elves in the room. They sat side by side on a single chair, their attention fixed entirely on the woman. A maid stood guard by the door, responsible for the room's security, though the elves would not have even considered attempting an attack.
They had already seen how the masked woman effortlessly defeated a massive creature, and they had grasped, at least vaguely, that she was not even the strongest individual present here. As a result, they felt like insects trapped among titans.
The wide chamber, saturated with illustration magic, was filled with symbols suspended in midair, drifting in slow, deliberate patterns. Some formed spirals reminiscent of linguistic sequences. Others were entirely different, complex diagrams evoking star charts, mana currents, or biological schematics.
The woman seated at the table was a moon elf.
Her skin was pale and flawless, carrying a natural sheen reminiscent of moonlight. Her long, silvery hair was loosely gathered behind her head, with a few careless strands falling across her face. Her green eyes, matching the green robe she wore, were not merely harmonious in color but a striking feature in their own right.
Her ears were slender and elegant, their tips curving slightly upward. Thin-framed glasses rested on sharp yet weary green eyes. Her facial features were soft, but her expression was not. Her brows were almost always faintly furrowed, her lips pressed into a straight line, the habitual look of someone lost in thought.
She wore a simple yet functional robe, and despite its loose fit, her curves remained clearly defined rather than hidden. The fabric was unassuming, but the small symbols embroidered across it subtly shifted when observed closely, as though reacting to the mental activity of its wearer. Her arms were slender, her fingers long and delicate, not the hands of a battlefield mage, but of a researcher.
The moon elf gazed at the sheets of paper floating before her. These were no ordinary parchments. Each represented a different set of data. One displayed the waveforms of the sounds produced by the elves. Another showed mana density measurements. Yet another contained abstract symbols corresponding to emotional responses. The parchments occasionally drifted closer together, then apart again, as if arranged by an invisible algorithm.
She took a bite of her cookie, followed by a small sip of milk, clearly enjoying the ritual each time she ate. Her eyes never left the symbols as she chewed. For several seconds, she even noticed an error forming along the edge of one parchment, yet did not bother to lift her hand to correct it. She merely furrowed her brow slightly and took another bite.
The moon elf's name was Selene.
Very few people had ever seen her standing. She worked while seated, reclined while seated, and thought while reclined. To her, standing was a mistake made only by people in a hurry. And the only urgent concern in Selene's life was making sure the cookies did not run out.
One of the illustrations in the air trembled unevenly. Selene noticed and sighed softly. She lazily raised her long fingers and tapped the symbol without even moving her wrist. The vibration immediately stabilized, spinning more steadily than before.
"Hmm… yes, that's better," she murmured.
Her voice was soft, almost lethargic. The tone was unintelligible to the two blue-skinned elves, yet strangely unsettling. There was no threat in it, no curiosity either. Their presence seemed as mundane to her as any other data point in the room.
The elves were staring at her.
But not as they had stared at Areth or the masked woman. Selene's power was not obvious. It was not flamboyant. On the contrary, she appeared to be doing almost nothing at all, and that unsettled them far more.
The female elf's gaze drifted involuntarily to the cookie in Selene's hand, then back to the eyes behind her glasses. They were of the same race, yet the difference was unmistakable. Beyond skin tone or magical aptitude, it was her lethargic movements that shocked them the most. Among blue elves, laziness was considered one of the gravest sins.
Selene drew one parchment closer. It displayed the complex waveforms of the sounds the elves had made moments earlier.
"J… justk talk e liittle More?"
For a moment, both elves froze.
The male elf straightened reflexively, the legs of the chair scraping softly against the stone floor. The female elf held her breath without realizing it. The words that had come from Selene's mouth were theirs. The sentence structure and accent were terrible, but they understood exactly what she meant.
She had addressed them.
Selene raised her brows slightly when she noticed their reaction, observing them as if recording data. One of the floating parchments instantly changed, new markings overlaying the sound waves.
"Hmm," she said. "You understood. So the intonation was sufficient."
The elves didn't understand what she was saying this time, but they could now see the woman's purpose. Fear and confusion tangled together. At last, the male elf spoke, his words sharp and rapid, filled with defensive instinct.
Selene tilted her head slightly to one side. As she listened, her eyes focused less on the elves' faces and more on the symbols in the air. The parchments stirred. Some markings faded, others darkened.
"No, no," Selene said, tracing a small circle in the air with her finger. "I matched this part incorrectly."
She took another cookie. As she bit into it, one of the parchments rotated on its own, its symbols rearranging themselves. The word the male elf had just used shifted into a different category.
"This isn't a threat," Selene murmured. "It's more of a… warning. Self-preservation oriented."
The female elf spoke timidly. Her voice was softer, her words trembling.
For a brief moment, Selene's eyes shifted directly to her. Her gaze sharpened behind the lenses. The biological schematic parchment expanded, the symbols representing the female elf's heartbeat accelerating.
"Yes," Selene said. "Stress-induced phrasing. Interesting."
The elves did not understand what she was saying, but the calmness in her voice only made them more uneasy. She was not speaking with them. She was analyzing them.
Selene drew another parchment closer. This one now displayed not only sound waves, but geometric shapes representing sentence structures. Some were fractured, others incomplete.
"Not complete yet," she muttered to herself. "But it'll do."
She looked back at the elves. This time, she spoke more clearly. Still broken, but noticeably better than before.
"Name… you. Say."
The male elf hesitated. His eyes flicked to the maid by the door, then to Selene's eyes. They understood they could not escape, yet no one was shouting, striking, or forcing them.
This situation eased their minds a little.
"…Rha'kel," he said at last.
The female elf whispered, "Man'sul."
The moment the names were spoken, the parchments reacted as if alive. The symbols sharpened, some stabilizing for the first time.
Selene released a satisfied breath and sank deeper into her chair.
"Good," she said. "Names are always a good place to start."
She took another cookie.
The research was progressing.
Lazily, yet at a surprisingly rapid pace.