Chapter 27: Change and Allies
For a long time, the relationship between elves and humans had been strained. Yet this animosity always seemed somewhat perplexing, as elves, by all accounts, appeared to be quite amiable.
Renowned for their elegant and refined appearances, elves were also known for their pure and kind-hearted natures. Their civilization predated humanity's by millennia, earning even the Church's grudging respect despite their pagan beliefs. In many human traditions, elves were held in high esteem. Aside from a touch of arrogance and self-righteousness—often rooted in pride for their millennia-old culture—there seemed to be little about them that could make them difficult to get along with. Their astonishing beauty, from a human perspective, not only made them approachable but downright alluring.
Perhaps it was precisely this allure that poisoned their relationship with humans. To the powerful and corrupt, a graceful and beautiful elven woman was the ultimate prize, a commodity worth a fortune. Rumors suggested that certain nobles, and even women of influence, harbored a similar fascination with male elves. Anything with such immense value would inevitably spark greed, making genuine camaraderie between the two races nearly impossible.
Something as precious as an elf was bound to attract predators. Thus, elven settlements were either hidden to the extreme or heavily fortified. Elves traveling openly through human lands were exceedingly rare, and even fewer humans could claim true friendship with them. As a result, few truly knew the size or scale of the elven settlement in the Turaleone Forest. Among the scattered rumors, all that was certain was the presence of a teleportation circle. Some claimed the settlement was merely a small village with a few hundred residents; others estimated two or three thousand at most.
Hilika and Esis wanted to devise a comprehensive and meticulous battle plan, but with such vague intelligence, even the best strategists would be at a loss. Esis had inquired for more details, but for reasons unknown, the mysterious benefactor who hired them withheld specifics about the forest. Their prior reconnaissance mission yielded little; the thieves had only managed to glimpse the outskirts of the settlement, capturing a few female elves before retreating under a hail of arrows. The sketches they provided upon their return depicted only a small portion of the settlement.
The captured elven women might have known more about the settlement, but elves were notoriously stubborn. Even the best interrogators of the Shamusi Thieves Guild doubted they could extract anything useful. Besides, these women were valuable commodities—practically as good as gold. Hilika couldn't bring himself to see such precious merchandise battered and broken.
In the end, Hilika crafted a bold and reckless plan: with the three magic scrolls at hand and every thief he could muster, he intended to conquer the entire Turaleone Forest.
However, if Hilika truly understood the situation within the forest, he would never have conceived such a plan. Even the mysterious benefactor who provided the scrolls never intended for him to occupy the entire forest. The Turaleone Forest was not home to a mere village of a few hundred elves but to a sprawling elven city of over ten thousand. The absence of towering structures like those in human cities stemmed from the elves' deep bond with nature and their architectural philosophy. This misled the thieves into underestimating the settlement's size.
The recent breach of the forest's barrier and the abduction of several elves had thrown Turaleone into chaos. After centuries of tranquility, this sudden violation struck the elves like a peaceful maiden discovering a predator lurking in her garden. Their shock and fury were palpable.
The elven elders did not stand idly by. They had already dispatched emissaries to Alrasia to uncover the fate of the abducted elves. The reports confirmed the worst: the captives had been sold as slaves and commodities.
"The perpetrators belong to Alrasia's largest and most ruthless thieves' guild," one elder reported grimly during a council meeting.
"How could mere thieves possess the means to breach our barrier?" another elder demanded, gesturing at the remains of a magic scroll on the table—scraps of parchment and ash. "This scroll is incredibly sophisticated. Breaking our barrier would have required a significant amount of stardust. There are only a handful of individuals or organizations on the continent capable of crafting such an artifact. Thieves alone could not have done this."
"Yet the intelligence we gathered is reliable," the first elder insisted. The elves who ventured into human society were the best of their kind—masters of both combat and cunning. Navigating human territories with ease, their information was beyond reproach.
Turaleone was unlike the Whispering Forest. While its elves remained proud and reserved, they were neither naive nor insular. Without the perfect protection of something like the Sunwell Barrier, they had learned to protect themselves. Although their political and military structures were not as developed as those of human nations, they knew when to take action.
The council meeting, originally convened to discuss the abduction, soon expanded to address broader concerns. The elves of Turaleone realized this was not merely an isolated incident but a sign that change—and allies—might be necessary for their survival.
"Since the intelligence is reliable, and the scroll cannot be wrong, the conclusion is clear," said the oldest of the elven elders with a sigh. "This matter is definitely not as simple as it seems."
Most of the elven elders here were several hundred years old, but only this particular elder appeared aged. Elves generally maintain their youthful appearance for most of their lives, and when one like this elder begins to show signs of aging, it suggests either the imminent end of their life or some other special cause, such as the practice of powerful magic or excessive strain from their responsibilities.
"Elder Royd, your judgment and intellect are the most outstanding among us. What do you think is really going on?" asked another elder, addressing the elder who appeared the oldest.
Elder Royd coughed twice before responding, "Though I cannot say for certain what is happening, I do know that we must act swiftly."
"Are you suggesting we should ally with Alrasia? Even in the thousand years of elven history, there has never been such a precedent. Our noble elven race has never needed to compromise or form alliances with humans…" one elder protested.
"I did not say we should ally with Alrasia," Elder Royd replied calmly. "What I am saying is that we now need allies, we need change, and we need help. Everyone knows what happened in the Whispering Forest. We cannot deal with those dark forces that covet the leaves of the World Tree on our own. We must seek assistance and transformation. I have a bad premonition that what is happening now might just be the prelude to something far worse."
One elder hesitated before speaking, "The great Fahma once said that a peaceful, unchanging life is the true path to longevity. That is why I have always suggested keeping the events in the Whispering Forest a secret from the other elves, so they can continue to live in peace. Do we really want to drag them into the turmoil and fear of change?"
"To face turmoil and change while clinging to ancient dogma is hopeless," said Ruya, rising to address the other elders. Perhaps because of the life-and-death trials she had faced, her expression and voice carried a strength not seen in the other elves. Although she was still young by elven standards, her unique status and experiences had already made her one of the most important figures among the elders.
When Theodorus brought Ruya to them, it was then that the elven elders learned of the devastation in the Whispering Forest. The holy land they held in their hearts had been utterly destroyed, their kin and the forest turned to ash. Had it not been for Ruya's account, they would never have believed such a thing. For the elves, whose lives had always been peaceful and serene, this was not merely a bolt from the blue—it was a catastrophe that shook the very foundations of their world. The elders had even considered keeping it a secret from the other elves.
Though the elves of the Whispering Forest were more open than their counterparts, they were still elves, bound by their tradition of quiet, peaceful living. The elders were at a loss in the face of these changes. Only after consulting with Ruya did Elder Royd suggest that the elves needed to seek help from allies and abandon their long-held prideful but passive stance. They needed to present themselves as a unified race and take their place on the continent's stage.
Although this proposal could be effective, it was extremely difficult for the elves to implement. So, the matter was delayed time and time again, until now.
"The situation has become urgent. If we delay any longer, something even worse might happen," Ruya was saying when, as if to confirm her words, an alarm suddenly rang out.
The alarm came from the elves guarding the surveillance magic array. The elders rushed to the magic array.
One of the functions of the magic barrier around Turaleone was to continuously display the movements within the entire forest. The image formed by the magic array showed that incoming outsiders were moving toward the center of the forest. There weren't many of them, divided into two groups: one group of five and another of about ten.
"Gather all available forces, prepare for battle. Quickly, quickly," the elven elders' anxious voices rang out as the call to arms spread swiftly to every elf.
In Turaleone, there was no one incapable of fighting. Elves had no concept of the elderly, weak, or children. Ten thousand elven archers, capable of performing sniper duties in human armies, swiftly took their positions, waiting for their enemies to walk straight into their trap.