Neither Ian nor Vale spoke as they walked, each lost in their own thoughts. Mal rejoined them at the bottom of the stairs. The consistent sound of claw clicks against the wood ensured he was following close behind. They maneuvered through the Haren’elen and out onto one of the many branch-bridges. Ian was replaying his conversation with The Seer, and wondering if he has asked the right questions. Mal occasionally nudged him as he started to drift in the wrong direction.

“Here we are. This-” Vale said, turning to face Ian and the pair nearly collided. Her reflexes were sharp, so she easily avoided Ian’s graceless, lumbering with a precise step. Ian was not as graceful. He comically stumbled past her and spilled out onto the walkway in front of a set of doors. Vale straightened her cloak to cover a laugh. She raised a hand towards the tree behind her.

“As I was saying, this is the Star-Tree Inn. The Seer has been gracious enough to fund your accommodations for the duration of your stay,” She said looking down at him, her serious demeanor returning, “Please conduct yourself accordingly.” With that, she marched inside, her faithful wolf right on her heels.

Ian mocked her attitude with some choice facial expressions from his spot on the ground. Then he got to his feet and followed after her.

He pulled open the door and did a double-take after stepping through. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all carved from white marble. Soft white light emanated from strategically placed floating orbs. They gave an orderly, but welcoming appearance to the lobby. Straight ahead was a grand reception desk, a comfortable dining area off to the left, and signs for an indoor lagoon.

Vale was speaking rapidly in Elvish when he approached the receptionist's desk, presumably procuring Ian’s room key. Ian shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to lean his back against the desk in an attempt to blend in. Unfortunately, the desk was too low for him to properly balance against. He slipped and knocked over a cup of quills, causing himself to further stand out.

Ian, pretending as though nothing happened, continued to visually explore the lobby with his best expression of innocence. He noted that the plaque on the desk read Hailer: Reyli. The conversation switched to origin, he assumed for his benefit, and he turned his attention to the elves.

“I don’t know how long he will be staying, but please see to it that he is comfortable,” Vale said.

“Of course, Ranger Therrae,” Hailer Reyli responded with a nod. The Hailer retrieved a large, ornate, brass keyring from underneath the desk and made a note in her ledger before passing it to Vale.

Vale pocketed the key and gave a nod of thanks. She faced Ian and gestured towards the burnet elf, “This is Reyli, one of the Hailers and overseer of the inn. If you require anything in the evening, see her,” She shifted her arm slightly to the right, pointing out another dark-haired elf who was identical. She had her arms full of parchment and disappeared back into an office behind the desk. “Or her twin counterpart Lirey, during the day.”

Mal made a soft whimper at the mention of Lirey and looked up to Vale with wide eyes. She knelt, putting herself at eye level with him for her response, “Well I don’t know Mal, would you like me to ask her?”

An excited growl and swishing tail confirmed it.

“Lady Lirey, Mal wishes to know if he can visit with you two while I take Ian upstairs?” Vale asked.

Hearing her name Lirey poked her head out of the office door with a wide grin, “Hey! Yes, of course, we’ll look after him. We love it when Mal visits!”

Mal had wasted no time in running behind the desk.

Soon Lirey was scratching behind the wolf’s ears and telling him how handsome he was, sending his tail into a frenzy.

“Come along then,” Vale said, leading Ian across the lobby. She called over her shoulder, “I’ll be back shortly.”

Slightly saddened that they weren’t taking the hallway with the Lagoon This Way sign, Ian then wondered how the sign was in english in the first place.

“Another piece of Gnomish magitech,” Vale answered, seeing where his gaze lingered, “It’s actually casting a spellskrit in origin. Not common in every part of the world because it requires Ironwood Ash ink, but we have no shortage of that here in Landorei.” She pointed to the side of the sign. Sure enough, when Ian leaned over to look from another angle, he could see the script hovering in front of the glass pane.

“Spellskrit being the language of magic?” Ian asked.

“Yes, it’s the oldest known language. Presumably, it is the language of the gods,” Vale replied.

“That’s quite ingenious,” Ian said, with no way of knowing whether it was an accurate statement, or how difficult it might have been to create that particular magic. “Speaking of origin, why couldn’t I understand the first half of your conversation with Reyli then? Since I apparently know origin.”

“Because I was speaking elvish until you joined us. Unless origin is spoken, there is no translation," Vale answered.

Her answer satisfied his curiosity, for now. They continued down the hallway, following the last of the signs directing them to the Floortal. Ian’s mind conjured up images of strange plants and pixie powered machinery, unsure of what to expect at the end of the guiding arrows.

When they rounded the corner Ian’s jaw dropped. They’d reached an antiquated and weighty looking metal cage. Behind the cage rested a wooden platform that was held up by no force Ian could see. Not a single wire, brake, power switch, or otherwise was visible. It reminded him of elevators from the 1920s.

Vale threw open the wrought iron door and stepped inside, waiting for Ian to join her.

“THIS is the floortal!?” Ian gestured wildly at the cage. He was fascinated, a little disappointed, but mostly curious about how an elevator worked without electricity.

She circled her head around, looking to the floortal and back to his somehow deflated countenance. “Oh, right, you have never seen a floortal. It takes us to your floor unless you would prefer taking the stairs to the thirteenth floor? We can, but I thought you would appreciate this more.”

In Ian’s mind, a battle broke out between his illusions of what a fantasy world should be and what was. He couldn’t help but want this world to live up to his ideals of a fantasy adventure. It had been a dream of his for so long to come to a land like this one. Of course, now that he was here reality had a way of creeping in and dashing his fantasy. It was just another reminder that this was not a dream.

“Elves made this… this mechanism?” Ian asked.

“No, of course, elves did not make this. You can thank the gnomes. As I said before, they really brought everyone into the modern age. The magictech they have crafted and released for the last few centuries is cheap, helpful, and efficient. I do not know where they get their ideas, but everyone has gained from them. The cities’ druids did have a challenging time getting the tree to accept this particular device, but here it is. The only reason we had to take the stairs to The Seer’s quarters is that he dwells within the Heren’elen, which is ancient even by elven standards. If they aren’t built when the trees are young enough, it is too difficult to add them later. ‘The wood does not want to move’, is what the druids say.”

Ian cautiously stepped onto the platform. If they have elevators, maybe they have something that I can use to charge my phone. This kind of magic isn’t all that different to me than electricity would seem to a pioneer man. I need to figure out how it works… His line of reasoning opened up an exciting avenue of thoughts and lifted his spirits back up.

Vale closed the door of the cage and pressed a button and it began to rise, gaining speed as it ascended. The floortal was whisper quiet and surprisingly gentle, without the increased gravity feeling of an Earth elevator. Seconds later the platform slowed to a stop and a chime indicated they’d arrived at their floor. She handed him his room key as they walked down the carpeted hallway.

His door’s number was painted on in a bright green flourish: 1337. Inside was the most elegant room he’d ever seen in his life, crime scenes of the rich and famous included. Deep blues and greens in the form of rugs, pillows, and paintings complimented the rich mahogany furniture. Cultivated from the tree itself, the furniture extended seamlessly from the floor and walls. It was lavish but unpretentious, classy but not cold.

It must have taken years for each room in this Inn to be crafted. He’d seen pictures before, of the Icehotel in Sweden; an elaborate creation sculpted entirely from ice. He had always dreamed of going there one day, but this blew it out of the water. A sitting area and an open balcony with a stunning view of the forest beyond the city took up most of the space. There was a cool breeze sweeping in as twilight overtook the city, bringing with it the promise of restful slumber.

“Alright, here you are. Enjoy your rest,” Her nose twitched a bit, “and perhaps a shower. I’ll be back in the morning to collect you. If you are hungry use the pscry to order something from the kitchen.”

She took a step towards the door and Ian realized he had no idea how to use the pscry.

“How do I-” Ian said stepping forward.

“The crystal is easy too-” Vale said while turning back around.

The pair nearly collided in the middle of the room, Vale’s swift agility and graceful dodge being the only thing that kept that from happening.

“Sorry, go ahead,” Ian said with a short chuckle.

For a moment a smile graced the cool demeanor of his elven companion.

“No, it is alright,” Vale said, “It’s my fault as well. I must remember that you are not from this world and would have no idea how to use things like this.” Vale took on a more relaxed posture, not wanting to appear rushed. “All you have to do is pick up the phonetics crystal, or as most people call them pscrys, and think of the person you wish to contact. As long as they have a pscry too, they’ll be able to respond. Reyli and Lirey each have one to assist guests, for example. Though the range is limited to the Inn for these pscrys I’ve heard of some that can reach anywhere on Paragore.”

Ian picked up the smooth, clear, baseball-sized pscry and examined it, his mind wandering to the pretty elven twins at the front desk. A clear voice came through, “Yes, how can I be of assistance?” Startled, Ian dropped the pscry as the face of Lirey, or Reyli, formed on the surface.

Vale retrieved the pscry and held it in front of herself at eye level, “Sorry about that, he is unfamiliar with the pscry. We don’t need anything right now, thank you.”

“I see. Have a pleasant evening, Gent McClintoc. Ranger Therrae,” Reyli made a small bow.

“Any other questions Gent?” Vale asked as she returned the pscry to its designated spot on the nightstand. A familiar growl came from the pscry as the image of Reyli faded.

“No,” Ian said after a moment's thought.

“Until tomorrow, then,” She flashed him a smile and headed out the door.

Ian made a feeble wave at her departure, unsure how to address her. Is the counter to Gent... Lady? I think the other elf said Madam, Ian wondered. The door clicked shut while he was still debating.

“Damnit, I forgot to say thank you,” Ian muttered. His arm was still partially raised, prompting him to sniff under it, pretending that was his intention all along.

“Okay, she was right about the shower. I smell like a foot,” Ian muttered to himself. He made his way to what he assumed was the bathroom, which had the only interior walls of the entire hotel room. They too were crafted from the tree itself.

Ian took in his haggard appearance in the oversized mirror above the sink. At least eighty percent of his appearance anyway, even here he was too tall to get his entire body into a mirror frame. Between the ordeal in the warehouse and traipsing through the woods, he looked rather battle-worn. His shirt was sweat-stained and torn in several places. And splotches of dried blood made certain to thoroughly ruin the garment. His pants were not much better, covered in dirt and torn around the hem where the undergrowth had caught them.

As he peeled off the tattered remains of his clothing he found slight humor in it all. I must look like I’ve been rescued from a year-long stay on a deserted island. He wiggled his fingers through a hole in his shirt before tossing it aside. He’d see about getting some replacement clothing tomorrow.

He made his way over to the tub along the back wall and cracked a smile. At last, there was something with his size in mind. Or more likely, it’s for couples, Ian thought. His mind picturing the smaller elves. The massive wooden tub had a layer of lacquer or sealer on it, which he now noticed matched the basin below the mirror. It took a few minutes of analyzing the knobs in the wall to figure out how to get the water flowing. A sigh of satisfaction escaped him as he sank into the steaming water. The heat already working its magic against his sore muscles.

He focused on the positive. He was alive, sheltered, and tomorrow he was going to figure out how to get home. He’d only been gone a day, but so much had happened. He wondered if anyone would even believe his report on yesterday's events when he got back.