1

On the other side of the dark portal, the company stepped out on a platform of semi-transparent, glass-like material. It was a wide pathway of staggering length, crossing the entire landscape from north to south in an uninterrupted curve, raised in the air about thirteen feet above the ground level on thin, metallic support structures. Despite its fragile looks, the glass road appeared incredibly durable, carrying people and horses without any sign of stress, even absorbing the sound of footsteps.

Concealed from prying eyes by the magic of the elves, no human had ever set foot on this miraculous pathway before, and so history was in the making.

“What’s this, a frigging motorway!?” Izumi exclaimed, unable to believe her eyes.

A sight only slightly less strange stood up ahead.

The Court Wizard neither walked nor rode on horseback, but had a grand carriage to take her. True to her quasi-Gothic style, Carmelia’s transport looked as if on loan from Count Dracula himself. It was the size of a large van, crafted entirely of black wood, with silver framing, darkened windows, and peculiar, thorny add-ons. There was no driver. The six night-black horses reined in front of the carriage were apparently guided only by some preternatural instinct.

The carriage looked even more spacious on the inside.

There was enough room for maybe a dozen people on the wide seats in the front and back, which were elegantly veiled in black leather. There was an ebony table set up in the middle, and numerous little drawers with silver handles stood along the right side wall, leaving only the door on the left for exit. Outside, a convertible extension had been crafted onto the back part of the carriage, which could be opened to set up a cozy pavilion. Such and many more were the wonders of Carmelia's private ride.

Izumi felt wholly unworthy of her seat aboard.

She alone was allowed in, while the others had to share the horses and ride behind the carriage. As much room as there was, not even Waramoti, the former hero of the Empire was invited. Not that he expressed much visible disappointment over his lot. The Court Wizard and Heaven's Hand had some bad blood between them, it seemed, and them silently tolerating one another's presence was probably as good as it could get.

As if the painstaking wayfaring of the preceding weeks had been but a long night’s dream, the journey resumed with greatly improved speed and comfort. As soon as the travelers set out, the surface of the road began to glow with odd patterns and slide soundlessly forward, accelerating them to a disorienting velocity, though they could feel no wind or momentum. The mechanics of the road were surely beyond an average mortal’s comprehension, let alone the ability to describe in words.

“Um, so what’s going on?” Izumi asked the sorceress, taking her eyes off the scenery outside. “Surely you didn’t come all this way just for my sake?”

“There is no need for you to feel indebted to me, if that is your concern,” Carmelia shook her head on her seat in the opposite end. “I have had plans to visit Alderia for some time, so my coming this way was, by all means, inevitable. Although, it is true that I had placed said plans indefinitely on hold, and your disappearance act compelled me to expedite them. With all the noise her majesty made over your abrupt departure, I couldn’t well leave you to your devices, but followed as soon as my other commitments at the Court allowed it. On the way, I saw the opportunity to take care of my unfinished business, which brings us here. Nothing more complicated than that.”

“Er, that means you totally did it for my sake.” Izumi grimaced, guilt bringing cold sweat to her brow. “But, what do you mean by ‘made noise’? Are we talking about the same person now?”

“Who else?” the cirelo replied. “Her majesty went into a veritable frenzy when you could not be found. Locating you and learning your bearing did little to help things. It was only after I assured her that I would go retrieve you in person that she finally settled down, to the point of being able to focus on her duties. Do you have any idea how much trouble this episode caused to everyone at the Court?”

“Ahaha...” Izumi scratched her neck, her guilt growing torturous. “I’m sorry, I guess? For leaving without telling.”

“Whatever possessed you to do such a thing, in any event?” Carmelia asked. “Is it not basic courtesy to share your plans with your confidants, before acting on them? Not that you ever truly exhibited such manners.”

“Ah, well...I didn’t think anyone cared that much, I suppose.”

“Why? By what I gathered from our conversation, you had an argument with her majesty about something or the other. Her explanation made very little sense to me, but she appeared rather remorseful for what was said. Was this stunt related then?”

“She did?” Izumi continued to squirm on her seat. “Even though she was right? If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry!”

“Are you then?”

“Maybe? A little?”

“A little?”

Looking down, Izumi crossed her fingers in solemn thought.

“Maybe we people really do create our own demons—just like Iron Man said. I don’t think I was entirely wrong, but I’ve reflected on my actions, all right. I’ve repented. I might’ve been a bit careless in the past, but I’m going to change my ways. That’s what I’ve decided.”

“...Who said what?” Carmelia’s blank stare spoke volumes. She didn’t understand at all.

“What about Lia then?” Izumi gave up on the topic and asked.

“What of me?” Carmelia asked in return, slightly tilting her head.

“Were you upset that I took off without a word?”

The sorceress stared back at Izumi with her usual, unreadable expression.

Someone who had lived on for no less than six millennia was probably not—or should not have been—too easily affected by whatever fleeting affairs transpired along the way. But over the brief time they had known one another, Izumi had learned that the sorceress was neither emotionally stunted nor heartless, but an extraordinarily delicate lady and sensitive about a lot of things.

“Let’s see,” the sorceress finally said. “If it weren’t for the debt I owe you, on top of her majesty’s direct orders, I suppose you’d be swimming Henglog as a particularly ugly toad by now.”

“I’m very sorry,” Izumi bowed her head and apologized.

“No matter. Let us move on to more important affairs. There is a great deal I must tell you before we reach Alderia. Information essential to your survival therein.”

“What’s that important business of yours about, anyway?” Izumi asked. “Is it a diplomatic mission? Or just a social visit?”

“I am here officially as an ambassador of the human Empire,” Carmelia answered. “To try and rekindle diplomatic relations between mankind and emiri. And so also between emiri and us cirelo, even if indirectly.”

“Sounds like you’ve got your work cut out for you, alright.”

“That would be putting it lightly. Difficulty aside, it is necessary. We need every ally we can get in order to combat the daemon threat. To prevent the end of the world.”

“Right,” Izumi nodded. Certainly, as far as missions went, nothing could be more important for the dwellers of this planet. “Does that mean Christmas still hasn’t given up on the tower-thing, even after becoming the Empress?”

“Giving up is not an option, I’m afraid,” Carmelia shook her head. “It is only now that we may begin to work towards that goal in earnest. The emiri possess an asset which could greatly aid us in our cause. The previous Emperor gave up on it, thinking Alderia would never answer our request, and that the only way to claim what we need would be by war. He was likely correct, but going to war with Alderia is unthinkable. Homeless refugees they may now be, but the emiri are far from powerless. To get what we want, we are more likely to succeed by means of diplomacy and negotiation.”

“And what’s that asset that they have?” Izumi asked.

“Ships,” the sorceress answered.

“Ships?” Izumi repeated. “As in...for sailing?”

“Do not think of the primitive vessels you humans use for seafaring,” Carmelia corrected her. “Sihlruén, the Platinum Fleet, has stood unrivaled since the days of the Golden Age. Those ships will sail anything, be it water, air, or primal fire. If only we could have ourselves a lone frigate, we would be entirely spared of the nightmare on land, and reach the Trophaeum with ease. That is the plan.”

“Wow.” A surge of enthusiasm brightened up Izumi’s countenance. “There are airships in this world? I’m so gonna get one!”

“Unfortunately,” the sorceress continued, “most of the Fleet was destroyed in our exodus and the stormy times that followed. Only a handful now remain, and the mastery of shipmaking has faded. Needless to say, their rarity makes each craft unfathomably precious. It could well be that the Alderians will sooner give up their heads than their ships. Especially while knowing that there is little hope of getting back what we borrow.”

“But you're still going to ask them?” Izumi asked. “Will they even listen?”

“The emiri are ultimately beings of reason. If I offer them something they need even more than their ships, they will listen, yes.”

“In other words, something they need more than their own lives? Does anything like that even exist?”

“Yes,” Carmelia nodded, evading Izumi's gaze. “I will offer them a future.”

“Hm...?”

Izumi had no idea what the sorceress meant, but her intuition also told her that it wasn't a topic she should pursue. Carmelia's evasive demeanor suggested that the matter was quite sensitive, and demanding details was only going to come at the cost of tactlessness. Not that Izumi was terribly interested in politics at any rate; those of humans, or elves, or any other race.

“What are the elves of this world like, really?” she asked instead, after a moment of thought. “I’ve heard some stories. Think we'll get a warm welcome when you're with us?”

Long ago, the person facing Izumi had been the first in line to receive the crown of the united elvenkind, and reign as their queen. At least, in the event that her father, the High King, happened to perish, and his partner relinquish the right to rule. Seeing how the elves could go on living indefinitely, it had not seemed likely that Carmelia would sit on the Throne of Ostgonnoth in any nearby aeon, if ever.

But the appearance of the daemons and the fall of Amarno had changed everything. In a span of time no different from the flapping of a butterfly's wings in the extensive history of the aldervolk, they had lost their entire ruling dynasty, among unnumbered faithful subjects.

Even the survivors drifted apart.

“Throw away such hope,” Carmelia answered outright. “I am a 'fallen one', as you may recall. Worse yet, one of the very instigators of the so-called rebellion, which divided our race and cost Alderia dearly. Regardless of my heritage, I am dead to the emiri of today. Out of reverence for my late father and my rank as an arcaenarian arsus, they will not openly raise their hand against me. But they will also be thrice as reluctant to answer anything I ask of them, and loathe anyone I associate with. Which is why, I fear that being in my company will only put you all at risk. Sadly, I have not the luxury to take you back either. Time is of the essence.”

“Why did you come by yourself then?” Izumi asked. “Couldn’t you have sent someone else? Wouldn't they have needed you more at the Court?”

“I had to come in person, because only I know the way. No human has hope of reaching Alderia unaided. Neither will the emiri listen to anything you say. It is only by coming here myself that I may show our opponents that we are serious.”

“I meant the other elves from your side. You’re not the only one working for the Empire, right?”

Carmelia replied with some remorse in her tone,

“No other cirelo would be welcome. And the feeling would be mutual. I have the memory of my heritage and achievements to protect me, and a sense of responsibility to restrain me. But those who took my side would only be captured on sight or killed, if they did not indeed strike first. Neither side may forgive the other. The emiri feel we betrayed them by leaving—and we that they betrayed us by not following. Such is the rift between us.”

“What a hassle.” Izumi sighed and leaned back on her seat. “Well, good luck for buying yourself a boat. What I want to know is, how can I get them to teach me runes. Healing runes, in specific. I can’t do that if they won’t even listen to me, can I?”

“Runes?” Carmelia looked uncharacteristically surprised and blinked. “You mean to say you had an actual reason to come all this way?”

“Eh, of course?” Izumi said. “I do nothing without a good reason, all right. What did you expect?”

“I thought you ventured into the deadliest corner of the continent only to punish yourself in a juvenile fit of self-pity, and because of your odd fascination with elongated ears and large chests.”

“WHAT—DON’T READ MY MIND! AAAAAA—!” Izumi covered her ears and wailed.

“Perhaps I was the foolish one, after all...?” the Court Wizard sighed and shook her head.

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing,” the expression of neutrality returned to Carmelia’s countenance as she straightened her posture. “Your quest will not be an easy one, but I may know someone, who could be of use to you. A man who once instructed me in my early steps into the arcane arts, a certain Erekhigan Sila Ne Wan Disiria. A master magician who earned himself the honorary title of Sage, Erekhigan's command of the ancient language has no peer among the living. He is a specialized healer, an aloof character disinterested in worldly politics, and among the few individuals I know who are more—shall we say—agreeable to outsiders. Perhaps agreeable enough to even assist you, a human, in your cause. It would not be the first time. For what it's worth, I shall write him a letter of introduction on your behalf.”

“Oh, thanks a lot!” Izumi replied with excitement.

“What for? The work itself is still ahead of you. No, rather, I should be apologizing to you.”

“Hm?”

The sorceress looked down, and her tone turned a touch more reserved. Nearly timid.

“For not being able to do any more for your sake,” she said. “Count not too much on my word to aid you in that land. And...I can tell the long journey has left its mark on you. You should hurry. I have brewed an improved elixir to alleviate the symptoms, but my medicine can’t hold the degradation in check for much longer.”

“...Well, I’ll deal with it, somehow,” Izumi told the magician.

“Full glad am I to see that you have not lost hope nor your confidence,” Carmelia said, looking up. “So, what about them?”

“Them?” Izumi was momentarily thrown for a loop.

“I know Mayeshwal’s hound well enough, but what about the others? Who are they and where did you come across such characters, this far from the human lands? I can tell you have already developed unusual fondness for one of them in particular...”

“AGAIN! STOP READING MY MIND!” Izumi covered her ears once more. “I seriously need some kind of a ward for this crap!”

Izumi summarized the story of how she had met with the Ludgwertan knights in the marsh, as well as their past dealings with the elves, the alleged kidnappings, and the nigh hopeless quest for answers. Carmelia listened without commenting, keeping her true thoughts carefully guarded to the end, as was her habit. When Izumi finally concluded, the sorceress remained absorbed in deep thought for quite some time.

“I see,” she quietly remarked. “They must be getting desperate then.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

Carmelia briefly weighed her words, before looking back at Izumi.

“It is probably as your friends have surmised. The Alderians are likely to be responsible for the disappearances. I may even have an inkling regarding their reasons. But it is at this juncture only a hypothesis without any evidence, and I would therefore prefer to keep it to myself. Were I to share with you all my suspicions, and the Ludgwertans learned of them, I fear they could...take unwise action at our destination. I wish to avoid this, if possible. For their own good, of course. Which is why I should advise you not to speak of this matter with them until the time is right.”

“If you’re saying I’m bad at keeping secrets, then I’m going to be upset,” Izumi replied.

“...”

“...Okay, so not everything went precisely as planned back in the Empire, and I did a few stupid things, but it was not my fault. Not all of it was my fault.”

“I would prefer that you did no more ’stupid things’ when we’re in Alderia,” Carmelia told her. “And if your friends know what’s best for them, they should drop their inquiry while they still can. Their lives are on the line.”

“Do you really have to keep me in suspense?”

Despite Izumi’s curiosity, Carmelia wouldn’t give her more tangible answers at this juncture.

“I have to try and keep you alive.”

2

Izumi watched the wetland flow by through the carriage window. The travelers’ dated maps and former estimates proved highly inaccurate, as no less than a hundred and sixty miles yet remained before they would have the shores of the southern sea in view, according to the sorceress. Yet, Carmelia also announced that they would reach the destination, formerly weeks ahead, already by this very evening. Izumi could only shudder, imagining having to walk that distance.

There were, at certain intervals, wider platforms along the highway, where the travelers could take a break, to dine, and let their horses rest. On one of these break points later in the afternoon, the sorceress addressed everyone together, to instruct them on the procedures involved in entering the elven kingdom. As if they were suddenly classmates on an innocent field trip, the travelers stood in a semi-circle and listened attentively to their teacher.

The fabled kingdom did exist, of this no doubt could remain. The sight of the magic road alone proved it. But what they would find at the destination, words alone were insufficient to describe.

Apparently, Waramoti had already filled in the Ludgwertans on Carmelia’s identity, rank, and job description, and so they didn’t interrupt the magician with rude remarks or question her motives, in spite of her obvious elven heritage. The story of how the Empire of Tratovia secretly collaborated with a rebellious faction of elves in a war against mythical daemons overseas was a lot to swallow, but the hours on the road had allowed necessary facts to sink in.

Still, it was probably unreasonable to expect no hard feelings at all; had only the sorceress found them a few days sooner, perhaps the two deceased knights could still live and stand among them.

Nevertheless, Carmelia didn’t go gentle on them.

“I have agreed to take you under my wing for the duration of our visit to Alderia,” she said. “This expects that you entrust all decision-making to me, and have faith that I guide you with your best interests in mind. If you find the thought unbearable, please tell me so immediately, so that we may part ways without delay. For even the slightest divergence of opinion or operation could come to mean our collective demise.”

No one disagreed. Of course, because parting ways now meant returning to the ground level, to resume the journey on foot. It was quite similar to the speech Waramoti had given them days ago. Only, now the bard himself stood in the audience.

“Very well,” Carmelia replied to their silence. “Next, I need you all to surrender your weapons before we arrive in Alderia’s Gate. Swords, knives, bows, anything remotely harmful. There may be no exceptions. Approaching the island armed is out of the question. I will keep your weapons and return them as we leave.”

“Does that mean me too?” Izumi asked.

“Unless I have been deeply confused for several centuries, ‘no exceptions’ means there will be no exceptions. Which means, yes, you as well. You, in particular.”

“I know what you mean, but, like, really?”

“No arguments,” the sorceress told her. “A great many eyes in the island can recognize the sword that you carry. They will not suffer a human to hold it—or you to keep your life for ever touching it. For your own protection, you must let go of it.”

“Fine, fine,” Izumi said, “but if things go south, I'll be in trouble without it.”

“Nothing will go wrong, so long as you do as I tell you.”

“Something always goes wrong.”

“Then you’ve deserved it. End of discussion.”

“Mmmm...” Izumi's expression made her unhappiness plain, but she surrendered her weapon, the same as the others.

“To most of you, such tools are altogether meaningless,” Carmelia told them. “Emiri may shun war and walk the path of spiritual service, as people, but that does not make them harmless individually. Far from it. Do not presume you are dealing with the sort of idle town guards or furtive cutthroats as you have until now. Armed or unarmed, any ordinary housewife of our kind could easily tear apart a grown man. And then there are the actual guards. Under their dignified masks, emiri can be prideful, quick to anger, unforgiving, and cruel. Long life has shaved certain finer nuances of empathy off their character, and they do not think very highly of humans. Ask yourselves, what is a person’s primary reaction to when a gnat comes buzzing next to his ear, before you go out of your way to trouble a random passer-by on the street.”

“That's real nice,” Izumi commented. “Then is there any way for us to make a good first impression?”

“Yes. Keep quiet and mind your own business. Do not be disrespectful, do not look anyone in the eye, do not talk to strangers unless you are spoken to, do not wander off on your own, do not touch anything without permission, and listen to what I tell you. That should be enough to avoid roughly ninety-nine percent of all conceivable trouble.”

“Yes, mom,” Izumi said.

“Is that the best you can do in terms of respect?” Carmelia scolded her.

“Well, you're pretty much the nicest, coolest, prettiest, smartest, most patient person I know, and you're supposed to be one of the ‘bad’ guys. So if the rest are in any way related to you, I think we'll get along swimmingly.”

At Izumi's direct words, Carmelia fell silent. As if she had run out of battery, the sorceress stared at the woman with her cat-like eyes, not making a sound, not even blinking. It started to get a bit awkward.

“Um, just to be clear, I was definitely complimenting you,” Izumi clarified.

“Hmph,” the sorceress averted her face and mumbled. “It seems being around your kind for so long has made me soft.”

“Hmm?”

“Excuse me,” Millanueve spoke up. “Doubtless this lady has informed you of the contents of our quest, yes? Then who should we address our matter to, once there? To the King or a high courtier, or some such minister? I admit we are not very familiar with your customs or etiquette, so could you tell us—”

“—I will present your business myself,” Carmelia quickly answered the girl. “You will not be allowed to see the King, I can promise you that much right away.”

“We come all this way and he won’t even see us?” Stefan asked in dismay.

“The King aside, no one there will want to deal with you. Such is simply the state of the matter. There is nothing you or I can do about it.”

“Then what are we to do?” Millanueve asked.

“As. I. Tell you,” the sorceress repeated with emphasis. “I understand your purpose, and somewhat sympathize with it, but you were indeed very foolish to come. Yet here you are, nevertheless, and you should hence set returning home alive as your primary objective. It will not be easy, and you should consider yourselves very, very fortunate, if you ever do see your own people again. I fear it will not be possible for all of you. If any.”

The knights fell silent, but the discontent was obvious on their faces.

“Leave all the talking to me,” Carmelia told them. “Not that you have much choice in this regard. You will not find many speakers of the common tongue in Alderia. Oh, and one more thing.”

Already about to return to her carriage, the sorceress paused.

“What is it?” Izumi asked, while the others made questioning faces.

“Do not call anyone an ‘elf’ in their face. In case they do understand, they will not appreciate it.”

3

The ride continued under nervous anticipation. The sun began its downward drift, turning redder as it neared the horizon. But even as the natural light lessened, the highway continued to give off a bright, bluish luminescence, drawing a mesmerizing line across the darkening earth. It was unbelievable to think that such a sight could be hidden from view, but according to Carmelia, this particular road of light was not even the only one of its kind.

Spared of imminent starving and the dangers of the night, the travelers weren’t in quite as hurry to reach the elven land anymore. Yet, almost too soon, the end of the adventure came into view.

Near sundown, as the knights looked ahead, past the black carriage, they saw that numerous little dots of light had appeared in the distance. Not the bonfires of a decrepit tribe in hiding, nor wavering swamp flames, but spots of wondrous, stable quality that stood out even under the watch of the setting sun. Those lights could only belong to the houses of a cultivated civilization.

Beyond, the limits of the land were drawn by the dark waves of a wide stream, the Sepris channel, which separated the island of Alderia from the main continent.

On the brink of the channel stood a town, the source of the lights.

Calling it a town was bound to give a misleading impression, drawing from the various struggling human settlements depicted thus far. Even by Izumi’s modern standards, the place looked urban and futuristic. It was a tight cluster of numerous orderly, multi-storied buildings with glassy walls, clean, paved avenues beneath, that streetlights lined, glittering pure and brilliant as the stars.

They had come to Alderia’s Gate.

Each traveler seeking entry to the island, regardless of the way, would have to pass through this nexus, for access to the island was only possible via the bridge beyond the Gate. Any attempt to force through was doomed. Even if the guards could be caught unaware and the checkpoints passed, the deactivation of the enchanted bridge would leave the invaders swimming in the deep, unpredictable waters of the Sepris.

For a safe passage, a permit was required.

The enchanted highway rose high above the more conventional streets of the city, and the travelers rode warily in the air over the smaller houses, disturbed by the thought of falling. Then, Carmelia’s carriage finally came to a stop on a wide, circular platform at the border of the channel, facing the magnificent bridge across it. The riders after her stopped as well, anxiously waiting for what was to come.

Nine tall statues stood on the edges of the luminous platform, bearing great lances.

Then, the statues suddenly stepped forward, revealing themselves as living beings.

The sentries were close to seven feet tall each, and wore ornate plate armors of polished brass, cleanly reflecting the lights of the buildings around. Magnificent helmets with vaguely Spartan aesthetics hid their heads, save for the eyes which shone bright blue through the openings. The human travelers felt like children next to the emiri knights, and it wasn’t all that hard to see why the people of ancient times could mistake those mythical beings as gods or other celestial entities.

The guards surrounded the party from all directions, without a word.

“Stay in,” Carmelia told Izumi and got up from her seat. “The horses will turn back on their own, if something goes wrong. You know where to find the sword. But make no move unless I give the signal.”

“What are you talking about?” Izumi retorted. “I thought you said nothing would go wrong!”

“There is a chance that things have become less...civilized, after I left.”

“Eeehhh…”

The Court Wizard stepped down from the carriage and faced the nearest of the guards, who also took a step closer. For a moment, the two merely stared at one another, and there was very little warmth or compassion to be found in their locked gazes. Although Carmelia was quite tall herself, the guard was considerably larger still and their dynamic looked somewhat dangerous.

The tension in the air was palpable. Following the events from the back, frightened stiff, Millanueve was certain that the knight was going to cut the sorceress down in anger, and they would all be killed.

But instead, the armored warrior suddenly bowed his head.

“Malevalá,” he spoke in a low, resonant voice. “Ton chisto dale tumete?”

“Teno ruana histo masarte,” Carmelia answered in her usual tone. “Katalúete?”

“Ahannan tuni selo haséto.” The sentry said and then glanced at the human knights. “To, duni saté?”

“Ni cune tadasari immein. Seé seba mavasehare.”

None of the humans knew the ancient language well enough to follow the conversation, but the gestures and tones didn’t make them feel any easier.

“You don’t suppose they’re talking about how we taste?” Alexander pondered.

“Quiet,” Millanueve whispered back at him.

“Hm.” The knight made an unpleasant grin. “Tuhéne hélen ni taalanné? Ce seta ni sa varhinne sees, tono heres.”

To that, Carmelia said nothing, but her expression was grim.

“D’hoóni,” the guard raised his arm and waved in the direction of the distant island’s silhouette. “Sulue nistra henné, malevalá. Tami si ovoé.”

Not responding anymore, Carmelia turned around and boarded the carriage again with brisk motions. The guards made way without a sound and the black horses soon set out again, to the bridge over the vast channel. The human knights followed quietly after the carriage on their tired steeds.

“Looks like it worked out,” Izumi noted, watching the sentries return to their stations. “What did you say to them?”

“I asked them to let us through,” Carmelia sullenly answered. “It was not a particularly thrilling conversation.”

The Ludgwertans felt downright nauseous, riding on what looked only like a sheet of glass over the restless waters. The bridge was nearly four thousand feet long, unsupported, yet the harsh wind failed to sway it, and the riders’ weight wouldn’t crack it. It felt too unreal, after the merciless wilderness of the weeks past. Today, they had joined the world of fairy tales, but none could bring themselves to delight in the experience. The memory of mortality still lingered too close, and nothing about the land ahead seemed too friendly or inviting.

There was no homey warmth in the lights that shone through the woods. Indeed, that shining was like that of the stars that were appearing in the heavens above—cold, distant, and uncaring. But while that impression disturbed the knights, Izumi found it almost uncannily nostalgic. It reminded her of the soulless fluorescent lights filling the cities of her home world. How strange that something she had once detested so could now become a source of comfort and pride instead.

Reaching ashore on the other side of the Sepris, the road continued to run through a small port town slightly smaller than the Gate. The party made no stop there, but proceeded unchecked, deeper and deeper into the island. The horses barely bothered to move anymore, only wearily lifting their legs, yet the road delivered them on without slowing.

“So what’s our last stop?” Izumi asked the sorceress, who had been sitting still without a word since the Gate. “Did you book us a hotel in advance? I’m pretty sure everybody could use a break. Not to mention a shower.”

“Alderia only has one major city,” Carmelia answered. “We should be there shortly. There are no hotels I know of, but you will most likely be given a room in the Palace.”

“The Palace, huh? Where the King lives? I could do with something a little less grand.”

“I would suggest that you to keep your expectations moderate. It is a Palace largely in name only.”

“Um, how likely is it that this room will actually be a prison cell?”

“Isn’t that what all rooms are?”

“Now that hits a little too close to home. How about encouraging me instead?”

“Being just a little discouraged every once in a while might do you good,” Carmelia told Izumi. “Even now, after all that you’ve seen, I perceive no terror in your heart. But you should know that fear is a sense essential to an organism’s survival.”

“Are you that worried about me, or what?” Izumi replied, ruffling her shortened hair. “I don’t enjoy being scared very much, so I’d rather not be. And how could I? An untold number of elven beauties are waiting for me out there! From here begins my romantic comedy life as a genuine harem protagonist!”

“No...” Carmelia muttered. “Is there fear, after all?”

Difficult as it was to judge in the dark, the land looked largely untouched by the elven presence. Deep sub-tropical forests dominated the scenery as an uneven, fluffy bedding covering all land, save for spots here and there where distinctly artificial structures stood out and bright lights twinkled through the foliage.

Further from the shores grew trees of a variety nothing on Earth could match in volume, save maybe the giant Sequoia of Northern America. Untouched by axes or saws, they had put many centuries behind them, growing thick and tall as small mountains, and leaving wide spaces in their shade, where only far smaller and younger plants could grow. The giant trees would seldom be felled even by rot or old age, being supported by their sheer mass. They could not be considered particularly beautiful by any means, being bumpy, bulky, and dark-barked, but their size alone sufficed to inspire awe and respect in the beholder.

In the shade of those majestic trees spread the kingdom of Alderia.

By the fictional works of her past world, Izumi had pictured the elves as having an intimate bond with nature, this motif present in all their works from philosophy to art, fashion and architecture. However, even if their spiritual principles were said to align with the stereotype, the local dwellings were by no means discreet or imitated natural forms. The emiri saw no shame in covering their streets with stone and glass, or embedding their buildings into the sides of still living trees.

The Alderians themselves didn’t hide in the woods either, shy before strangers, but walked out in the open with heads held high. Their clothing was light in color, chiefly blue, beige, or gray, which together with their pale complexion made them stand out in the nightly woods. It was apparent that rather than humble servants or allies, they viewed themselves as prideful supervisors of the natural order.

Of course. These were people who could outlive nature itself.

It was the environment that had to conform to their existence and not the other way round. Considering this, the overall untouched state of the island was probably more due to its scale, coupled with the fact that the elves were not very many.

“It’s smaller than I thought,” Izumi voiced her thoughts, gazing over the widely spread buildings. “And you said this is the only real city? Are there that few left? I got the impression—I mean, there was a whole continent...”

Izumi fell silent, expecting an answer.

Carmelia wouldn’t give her any.

“...It was that bad, huh?” the woman slowly remarked.

“Worse,” the sorceress replied.

“But it was a long time ago.”

“Time means nothing. To those of us who lived through the events, it is as yesterday. We cannot forget. Neither should we.”

“That’s not quite what I meant. After all this time, shouldn’t they have...you know? Added to the numbers.”

“I would not follow that thought, if I were you,” the sorceress shook her head. “For your own sake, ask no one of the Exodus. Speak not of the Divide either. Those are forbidden topics in these lands. A taboo.”

“Right...”

“As you can see, the emiri have grown few. And in time, I will tell you the reason for that. But not tonight.”

4

The island was bordered by a small mountain range in the southeast, a series of bare, rocky fangs. In the mountains' embrace spread a wide basin filled from corner to corner with untamed jungle, and at the base of the gigantic trees of the jungle stood the colony of the elven refugees, like a handful of brilliant diamons in the dark.

Gigantic, silvery skyscrapers dominated the central cityscape, some even up to a thousand feet in height, rivaling and at places surpassing the trees. The smaller apartment buildings and other facilities closely circled these majestic towers, the breathtaking Royal Palace overseeing them on the eastern edge. Roads and light bridges interlinked the city on multiple overlapping layers, like the webbing of a giant arachnid.

The metropolis arranged before the Palace lacked a name, being simply referred to as the “city” in everyday conversations. None of the inhabitants themselves would call it the “capital”, even if it was the sole prominent population center in the kingdom. The true heart of the emiri civilization could only ever be legendary Ostgonnoth, the Golden Cradle, in the far west of now lost Amarno. The grief for its loss had not faded even in eight hundred years.

Carmelia’s carriage came to a halt on a plaza facing the Palace.

A guard platoon was already there, awaiting the visitors in form, equipped with spears and shields akin to the previously seen. Even without the conveniences of radio communications, they had their means of sharing news, faster than a simple messenger could run.

The carriage doors opened on their own, and Carmelia stepped out, this time with Izumi following after her. The Ludgwertans as well dismounted—gladly, after the long ride—and discreetly flexed their stiffened legs, eyeing their surroundings. Except for Waramoti, who busily wrote down his notes. Smoke could almost be seen rising due to the friction caused by his abused pen, as he struggled to record what he saw.

At the same time, a soldier bearing a different air from the rest emerged from the Palace. Instead of brass, his armor was of a silvery metal, a blue-white cape over his shoulders. He strode across the wide, stone-plated front yard, down the marble steps, towards the guard formation, which swiftly made way for him.

Unlike the others, the silver knight wore no helmet. The elf’s hair was a shade of dull white, shoulder-length, and combed back. His complexion was pale, like that of the others, his eyes light gray. As hard as it was to guess his true age, he seemed rather youthful. That warrior paused directly in front of the Court Wizard, five steps away, as if the other travelers didn’t even exist in his eyes. He made no effort to hide the displeasure on his countenance either.

Then, after overcoming a brief internal struggle, he quickly bowed his head.

“Malevalá.”

“Jordith,” Carmelia nodded. “Om vidas mebesale sa aum.”

The annoyance on the man’s face turned even more apparent as he raised his face.

“Tenesarene na vali ni chido, ni au ohsirá?” he asked.

“Ohsirá na maré sidan, taatha to hé sameré,” Carmelia answered, narrowing her eyes.

“Reelen nolima n’aware. Tele so’oliwa havare.”

“Nadan sacare. Mavel to hisaerté.”

“Nedere no mas?”

“To’oú.”

For a moment, the two stared at each other in silence. Izumi very much hoped for an interpreter. Then, the helmetless knight shook his head in frustration and turned around with a beckoning gesture.

“Sele na’am.”

“Follow,” Carmelia translated the essential message for the rest of the group.

The Ludgwertans, Izumi, and Waramoti left the horses and the dark carriage behind and followed after the elven knight and the sorceress in a haphazard line, through the open entrance into the towering Palace.

The group was led down spacious hallways with a clean stone flooring, and gently arching walls, unmarked doors in the sides. They turned left, then upstairs, then left again, proceeding through a circular atrium, and into another hallway. Then, after some minutes of walking in anxious silence through the peculiar building, the elf knight, Jordith, abruptly stopped and spun around on his heels again.

“Ni tere helemnasá o,” he curtly said and gestured at the doors on their right.

“Your rooms,” Carmelia told the group. “Izumi and the girl will take the left one. The men in the right one.”

“Henesó rulega anaan?” the knight voiced a question with an amused grin. “Phute doro sí?”

“Ané,” Carmelia scowled at him, before turning back to the travelers. “Stay there for the night. Keep to your rooms and do not venture outside on your own.”

“What are you going to do?” Izumi asked her.

Turning to go on with Jordith, Carmelia answered without actually answering,

“I will come see you later. I cannot say when, but don’t keep up waiting.”

That was all. The humans saw off the Court Wizard, until she and her escort disappeared beyond the corner at the end of the hall. Then she was gone, quite as abruptly as she had originally appeared, early in the morning. And none could be sure if they would ever see her again.