Elden Witch? I asked myself silently. It wasn't the first time that someone called me a witch, but 'Elden' was a tad too much, even for me.

Apparently, the elder noticed my reservation, turned around, and said something to the other elves. A young girl nodded, quickly ran into a heavy wagon, and returned with a small bag.

She reluctantly handed the bag over to the old elven woman where she stood before us. Then she bowed and hurried back to the others. The elder smiled and mumbled something before turning her attention back to me.

She reached into the bag and pulled an old leather hat with a conical crown and a wide brim out. The look in her eyes when she saw it was one of nostalgia and melancholy.

When she turned her attention back to me, she pointed at the hat and said, "Symbol. Rank?"

Ohhh, that was what she meant. I didn't expect the traditions to still be the same. Somewhat relieving. So, let's do what/she's asking for!

I activated my storage magic, and a tear in space appeared. Sadly, removing my door from this plane also reduced the capacity of the area inside my workshop that I had access to, so I could only take out what I had crammed into the center. Fortunately, I had been somewhat prepared for this eventuality...to a certain degree.

Anyway, I grabbed the item the elder probably wanted to see—a witch's hat. You know, for a long, long time, witches were strictly matriarchal and ruled by a coven-like council. There were different council ranks, and if I remember correctly, the highest of those consisted of the direct offsprings of the first witch. They were, like her mother, immortal and powerful. But back on topic.

Every witch, be it an apprentice or a teacher, or from weak to all-mighty, owned one of these hats. They were a symbol to show their ranks and achievements. Obviously, they didn't always wear them, but they were like an identity card to other witches and those who knew about their custom. Color, size, form, decorative elements—everything was regulated. Sure, some things might have changed by now, but showing one's hat was always considered a matter of honor to another witch. Probably a reason why dimensional bags or shrinking magic got so popular amongst witches back then.

My hat on the other side was special. I was no witch but rather something like an honorary member. Well, or at least I was. After what happened with Eternal and me staying neutral—what incited other races to kinda loath witches—they might not be so well disposed towards me. Gee, not my fault those idiots thought Eternal was a witch. Laughable to even think that!

When I presented my hat to the elder, she gasped and took a step backwards, shaking her head.

"No, no. Y-you no Elden Witch. Witch friend? No. Feather isn't right, shows malice. But hat shows friend," said the elf, trying to convey her message in an understandable fashion.

I mustered my hat adorned with three different feathers, which showed my strength. One belonged to an Akhekh, a griffin-like dragon. Another belonged to a Rukh, probably the biggest flying predator aside from dragons. The last feather shone in the rainbow colors; it belonged to—

A loud sigh escaped my mouth, which caused every elf to stare dumbfounded at me. How could I forget that?! I rebuked myself.

Rainbow Crow was what the witches called the owner of that feather. It was a holy beast for them, a guardian deity. The story went that the first witch was saved by that bird in her darkest hour—which was utter bullshit—and trained her to become powerful enough to withstand any future challenge or something like that. I never really listened to that stuff because I knew the real story.

When I heard that deceitful story, I hunted that crow down out of spite. So what? Stupid flying nuclear mana-reactor. I was stopped before I could kill it, but I got the feather and the honorary rank that came with it. 'I was bestowed!' was the official announcement. But as it seems, time made them forget. Ouch, my poor blackened heart!

After I finished my reminiscing, I answered, "It was a gift. I never hurt any of her descendants and I don't plan to!"

The elder still looked skeptical, but then I reached out my hat to her to inspect it. This was known as a gesture of trust, and I hoped she would recognize it.

Suddenly, her old eyes twinkled in a fire of excitement and curiosity. She took the hat and examined it like a treasure.

When she gave me the hat back, I asked her, "You are no witch, are you?"

The elder shook her head, "No, friend, teacher. I'm an alchemist. Learned from Ithi, 'Doy— I'm sorry. Word unknown to me. You know her?"

I nodded. Ithi, that mad little alchemist. More than once, she asked me for a flask of my medicine. But I never ever would give it to her. Her still being alive was a good sign.

"Then you are friend!" the elder smiled and continued, "Yet, what are y—" but stopped when she noticed my disapproval of her question.

"Curiosity killed the cat," I said in a sickly sweet tone.

To my surprise—and to that of the others, easily recognizable by the shocked faces—the old elf performed a knotow and spoke in a singsong.

"We thank the moons for the miracle they sent upon us and welcome our moon-blessed guest. May their love always shine upon you!"

Oh, when was the last time I heard that chant? Repeating those words in such a demeanor was a way to show your deepest gratitude to someone and invite them to a feast. Coming here was obviously the right choice. Good job, me!

As the custom required, I bowed deeply and said, "The moons heard your words, and they are pleased, " to show the elder that I gladly received her words and accepted the invitation.

I heard a happy humming when the elder stood up, turned around, and indicated that I should follow her inside the camp.

A warming feeling ran through me, and a hint of happiness began to— I stopped in my tracks. No, something was off. I hurriedly looked at my hands, but there were no cracks. They were completely fine.

"This can't be," I whispered to myself and concentrated on my inner world. It seemed fine at first glance, but then I noticed a fine threadbare tether flying loose around, trying to connect to anything it could tangle with.

"The System," I remarked grudgingly. I didn't know how it managed to get in here without me noticing, but it was alarming. It was somehow tempering with things it shouldn't. I pulled the tether out before it caused any more anomalies. I felt how the warm simmering feeling vanished in an instant—like how it was supposed to be.

Yes, feelings were a weakness that I would not submit to. Never. Again.

-------

Honestly, the set up camp was better than I first imagined. Not only did they have really comfortable seating options, but also food and tools I had never seen before. Everything would've been perfect if it weren't for the annoying little kids trying to catch my tails.

Whilst I was fiddling with something that looked like a magical Rubik's cube that would rearrange itself after one minute, the paladin and the elder walked over to me. I knew now she was a paladin because the elder defined her as a 'warrior of the moons's blessing'. Well, at least the description sounded like one.

She wasn't that happy when I entered the camp with the elder, probably because she deemed me too dangerous to stay here, but the elder shut her down. This was the second time tonight, and I could guess that she felt kinda disgruntled by now—poor girl.

The bandit leader that I'd thrown to the elves before was now safely stored inside a wagon, completely bound and gagged—he just wouldn't stop screaming.

Apparently, he had a bounty on him, so it was a good thing that they left him alive. On the other hand, I had hoped that they would skewer him or something like that, but the moon elves weren't of the brutal kind. Poor old me.

Anyway, as far as I could understand it, the group of elves were on their way to the city to resolve a matter with a guild and a school, or something like that. Even if the elder could speak some true moon elvish, she lacked words and a fundamental understanding of the language. What the fuck did Ithi teach her?! Still, better than nothing...

Then a light dawned on me, "I'm such an idiot! Why didn't I think of it earlier?"

The elves looked irritated after my yelled realization, but I ignored them and opened my storage again. The item I was looking for was something I created after I got sick of learning languages for a long time. I might be powerful, but languages were never my forte—at least in this world.

A small earring with an embedded burgundy gemstone was in my hand when I withdrew it. I held it in the air like a little green guy who just found a treasure.

Another invention for the everyday lazy person, was what I thought while doing that move until I noticed how the elves looked at me like I had just gone crazy. Hmpf, I might be a little eccentric, but in my opinion, life needed a little bit of craziness.

Uh, whatever, back to the earring. Roughly explained, it worked like this: first, it analyzed the spoken language; if it wasn't already in its magic memory, it compared it with all the languages available in the library and drew conclusions about word construction and interpretation. However, this function was—due to the removal of the door—limited to what it already had in its magical memory—around thirty major languages.

It then helped the soul of the wearer to actively listen to surrounding conversations to crack the language code—where a word began and ended. Phonetic relationships will be determined; words and their meanings were getting linked to situations.

The fantastic thing about this process was that, because it engraved the language directly into your soul, it happened way faster than learning languages the usual way. Another nice side-effect was that no mind tempering magic could erase it, as long as one didn't target the immediate soul.

Therefore, depending on its complexity, the process of learning a language perfectly as if you were a native speaker could take several days or weeks. Basically, the learning procedure was no different than a baby learning to speak, just accelerated.

The magic invention could, in theory, also teach you writing, but it needed much more time for that because of the required number of books.

After you learned what you wanted, you could simply take the jewelry off until it was needed again.

Sadly, I was never allowed to create a series of them. 'It could be used to control someone or create sleeper cells' was the complaint. Only because I did that maybe one, two, or twenty times, didn't mean others would also create a flock of people who believed themselves to be chickens. It was funny, okay? Imagine a grown man trying to pick up seeds, but he just fell headfirst into the mud because his body didn't work like that. Well, them trying to lay real eggs was maybe a tad too bizarre—even for my taste. Stupid stuck-up god-like beings.

Apparently, acting like I did just now was for the elves, something they didn't see every day. For whatever reason, the women all began to laugh heartily. In seconds, I could feel how all the previous tense and grim atmosphere simply vanished into nothingness. Instead, they started to indulge in conversations, singing, and other stuff I wasn't really keen to describe. But let me say this, some of those elves, especially the sun-kin, were really open with each other.

-------

Once the moons were nearly hidden behind the trees, only the paladin, the elder, and I were left sitting around the big campfire. The others withdrew into the wagons to sleep. Over the course of the last hours, I had already learned some basics, thanks to the earring, but I still had a long way to go.

After some time, the paladin went to the armored wagon where the kids were sleeping.. She only gave me a short courtesy nod to wish me a good night before leaving me alone with the elder.

The elder seemed very tired, but I could feel she had a question burning in her mind. Somehow, I was disappointed. I had hoped for a little more conversation with others besides the elder, but none of the other elves attempted to initiate one. Well, not that they could have held one without asking the elder to be their interpreter. But they didn't even try. So yeah, I was feeling a little bit let down.

I sighed, "What did you want to ask me, elder?"

"I— We wanted to ask if the blessed one might offer us some more of her time," asked the old elf in her best attempt of ancient moon elvish yet.

"Offer? Well, I'm not against helping you out. You probably want to ask me if I can protect this caravan until you reach the city, right? I can do that, but I have three conditions," I responded to her question in a solemn tone.

The elf nodded, and I continued, "First, I want your help to get into the city unnoticed, as best as you can accomplish that. Secondly, the bandit leader. Give me a piece of his bounty. And lastly, I need information and will ask you things that might sound weird, but I was gone for quite some time. So I need some updates. Did you understand what I said?"

She hesitated, "I think I have. Getting into walls might be hard. Looks are not well seen with humans. Bounty can be all yours. I can give many information if I understand what the guest means. Would that be...sufficient?"

"Yes, it is. I'll think about a way to hide my tails, but for now, the first thing I wanna know is your name," I responded.

The elder eyes went wide, "Oh, what honor! Ithi taught me to never reveal name until asked by someone of thy rank. The blessed one can gladly call me 'Marika—Head of the Moon Alchemist Guild'."

I smiled at her, "Hello Marika, I think we will understand each other quite well in the future, both literally and metaphorically."

The soul of Marika beamed with happiness, and I couldn't help but remember a time when I could still feel such joy when I was with her...

I twiddled my ring and thought about what this world controlled by gods, and their system could have ready for me. New magic? New ways to overcome—

I stopped my thoughts when I saw that tiny little cracks had formed on my fingertips.

The medicine had already stopped working.