Wine was not something one recovered from at the breaking of dawn’s light. The two were not staggering but they were far from energetic and in the foulest mood she had ever seen the two in, like shambling dead.

Eliseo had been found with his head outside the hollow that served as a window as he hurled. Sinker remembered her coming to them but by then Eliseo’s mind had been gone.

Tarica held back a giggle when she noticed that Eliseo and Sinker were still sluggish. Her time with them mingled with her time fighting against such people.

She humored them by joining them for a short nap on a soft patch of green grass. They laid sprawled out in a circle, staring up at the sky.

“I heard elves can sleep indefinitely but seems like you and every other I have met sleep the same as me,” Eliseo mentioned.

“We can but that is more a matter of will,” Tarica explained. “If we wish to greet what comes next then we will wake as easily as any other.”

They asked her about the days prior, and Tarica told them about her lessons.

When they asked her why she was so interested in learning about plants, she told them about her previous identity. Both of them, still somewhat sedated, reacted with mute surprise. Eliseo’s mouth dropped open, but Sinker’s expression remained unchanged. The orc mentioned he already guessed she was a Dark Elf from her habit of avoiding sunlight whenever possible.

Eliseo mustered some energy to Sinker, more hurt than afraid. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”

“She didn’t tell us,” Sinker tried to state clearly but it came out like a grumble.

Eliseo bit his cheek and offered little retort to the orc. Instead he turned his foggy gaze to Tarica. “So, that we understand each other. You mean you were one of those elves like that Ordelas?” asked Eliseo, causing Tarica to wince at the name of her king.

“Yes,” she answered, looking at the clouds rather than his face. “I am a Dark Elf, just like him.”

“We’re alive,” Sinker pointed out before he closed his eyes, adjusted his shoulders, and relaxed. He sighed deeply as if the whole thing did not matter. “So, you’re not like him.”

“I guess you have a story to tell,” prodded Eliseo. “But you probably don’t want to talk about it. Never mind. You don’t know everything about Sinker and me, so I guess it’s fair enough.”

“All fair...” snored Sinker before he fell asleep.

Tarica and Eliseo looked at the orc, who was sleeping like a baby, and laughed. The human’s eyelids became heavy, so he joined the orc in the respite. Tarica, who appreciated the trust Eliseo and Sinker had placed in her, watched them sleep.

She took a moment to try to guess their exact ages. She thought Eliseo to be in his twenties, still young enough to adventure, old enough to be trusted. She did not notice a wedding ring so she placed that number in the low twenties, nobles married as young as commoners if not more so at times.

Sinker was more difficult to guess, orcs had a lifespan often ending at three centuries but that was closely tied to their health and could be stretched to five centuries, continuing to grow overtime, though slowing as they grew larger. Sinker possessed shorter legs than most orcs she met so she tried to judge him based on proportions. She placed him at close to but under a century, in his late first set of decades. The orcs would likely select someone at least that old to represent them.

Expecting the two to take a long nap, she swallowed a dream fruit, and it was not long before she closed her eyes and drifted into deep slumber.

Tarica awakened first, spurred by the uproar of alarmed plants and spotted something in the sky. A strange-looking aircraft floated above the forest. It looked like Satros’s skyship, except it lacked sails. She stared at the spinning blades that propelled it forward. Then it stopped moving overhead, still far away and loomed near the branches of the Great Tree, unable to enter as Satros had.

The odd ship resembled a bloated grub with stiff wings protruding from its sides. Screw-like implements were attached to the wings, and underneath, a basic boat-like platform was suspended by chains. The passengers rode in the hull that hung below the inflated portion equipped with a nose and tail with spinning propellers.

Perhaps the forest offered the same uproar to Satros’s vessel and she never noticed but she hazarded to guess the contraption travelled faster than the trees were comfortable with. Fortunately, it felt more akin to her to confusion than violent intent, though confusion could lead to violence. Fortunately, the vessel likely did nothing to prove itself a threat, so this was not an attack.

She woke up the others and directed their attention to the sky. “Oh, no,” Sinker groaned under his breath when he noticed the craft.

“What is it, Sinker?” asked Tarica, noticing how unpleasantly familiar he seemed to be with the flying machine.

“It is called a zephyrler,” Sinker replied with an air of dread. “They must have been approved for use while I was away.”

A rope descended, but a vine reached out from the Great Tree’s branches and grabbed onto it before it could draw near the ground. Several other vines lashed out and wrapped around the vessel to pull it in. Tarica saw frantic movement from what she glimpsed on the deck. The branches parted and the tree practically swallowed it into the canopy where it disappeared into the greenery.

“Did the tree just…” Eliseo gaped.

“I hope not,” Sinker voiced with dread and concern.

“It did not,” Tarica reassured them, assuming they thought the worst. “I do not hear any crashing.”

But she finally saw what Satros meant when he said that the forest could handle any threat. The boughs of the tree could undoubtedly crush the vessel if it wanted to. It appeared the ones in the vessel did not share the same mutual understanding as the sailor did with the forest.

Sinker started heading towards the Great Tree and the other two followed. The warrior elf, the one covered in mud and moss, eventually intercepted them. “The queen summons you, guest Zarku,” the elf stated, pointing in the general direction of the Great Tree’s crown.

Tarica imagined that Florena had to send an elf because the two would not understand the whispers of the trees. Perhaps a kavudin could have served a similar task but the warrior seemed happy to have a purpose. He seemed stern at first, especially considering he was a Forest Elf but he formed a slight smile as he led them.

They reached the queen’s chamber. Florena seemed to lack a throneroom, instead she possessed a large, seemingly empty room for meeting guests. The Great Tree itself could be considered her throne.

The queen was conversing with a small green figure with a pointy nose and large bulging eyes, a goblin. This goblin like most others slouched, even if he stood upright, he would still be shorter than a dwarf, a figure developed for slipping through caves. From what she understood, their six fingers were double jointed as were their elbows and knees. This one kept his scalp bald and wore a perpetual smile that revealed his sharp teeth like short, tiny arrowheads.

Goblins were a symbiotic people. They were the most widespread of all peoples, integrated into the societies of orcs, dwarves, humans, and as Marine Elves displayed even elves. However, it seemed as if they possessed a special bond with orcs as dwarves tried to restrict them, humans proved fickle with their relations, and most elves were slow to appreciate new novelties.

“You have excellent timing, Zarku,” the queen greeted, using the orc’s name with a kind familiarity in spite of its formality. “I recently finished explaining the proper manner of navigating this place.”

“We won’t make the same mistake,” the goblin added. “We promise.” The goblin lacked visible ears like a reptile would, odd considering their range of hearing. His voice was high-pitched and carried a shrill whistle that rang in Tarica's ears that punctuated most of his words. He spoke in an energetic, fast paced manner.

Tarica was too young to fully experience it for herself but Odlig taught her aspects of the original goblin language as languages helped one understand one's enemies. The core Goblin language consisted of many sounds that neither humans or orcs could even hear and its original form lacked a concept of subjectivity. It was designed to relay facts and ideas in a rapid manner. For beings of such small stature in such a large world, they lacked a word for safety until they formed a solid relationship with the orcs. Goblins and orcs likely interacted with each other earlier but the two groups seemed to join hands in an earlier conflict her people involved themselves in but the two seemed to reach their near complete societal merging during the Great War. Now goblins and orcs were anticipated to be connected to each other in some way.

“No harm was done,” Florena dismissed the matter. “But I am quite accustomed to being told in advance before visitors make their way so far. I failed to properly welcome you.”

“We already feel quite welcome, your highness,” the goblin replied. “It is not every nation that the first friendly face we see is the queen’s.”

Sinker apparently nervous at the sight of the goblin, visibly shook. Eliseo seemed to understand why Sinker was upset, but he did not share the information with Tarica. The small fellow waved. “Hello, Sinky,” teased the goblin as he held up a hand and wiggled his fingers in greeting. “Chief’s got a feelin’ again and wants you to return right away.”

At those words Sinker nodded acknowledgment and stiffened with resolve. He looked Florena and bowed. “If the queen permits.”

“I will not hold anyone here against their will,” Florena answered. “If you are called home, Zarku, you require no permission from me.” Her gaze drifted to Lucky and smiled warmly. “Though must it be immediate? If you must leave this very instant I understand but you came here with a purpose in mind and I have let it go unfulfilled. If you will allow me, I can at least procure the supplies as was intended. I would see you not leave here empty handed.”

The goblin scratched his sharp, pointy chin. Tarica could see numerous calculations flash through his eyes on a matter of moments. “I don’t mean to be rude your highness but how long would that take you. The chief said he wants Sinky safely back home until the ill omen has passed and all that but… the chief would be mad if I spat at your generosity.”

“All I require is a day.”

The goblin’s lips arched up in a wide smile. “A day would not hurt.”

“While you wait, I invite you to a banquet for you and all your staff.”

“All my crew? Can’t quite do that your highness. Someone’s got to stay aboard.”

“You can have them take shifts,” Florena insisted with a smile as adamant as stone. She clapped her hands and Tarica heard the deep creaking groan of bark rubbing against lumber somewhere in the distance. Tarica imagined the tree’s hold tightening. “The tree will not let your interesting toy fall or fly away.”

At the same moment, the centermost rings on the floor raised to form a vast table. Brush sprouted around it to form large leafy chairs. Vines and ivy descended from the ceiling and already started carrying in the beginning of a vibrant feast from outside.

Lucky’s smile faltered however slightly at the sound of the tree’s groaning but it broadened at the queen’s words. “You are a great queen, your highness.”

Eliseo faked a cough and eyes turned to him. “Am I understanding correctly that you,” he gestured politely to the goblin as he carried himself with the bearing of one raised among the false niceties of foreign courts, “would leave with Sinker tomorrow? With no heralding?”

“Yeah, chief’s orders,” the goblin answered.

“Then I trust you are aware that me and him have arrangements to travel together. I was under the impression I was supposed to take the same vessel as Sinker, to save the trouble.”

“Yeah, we didn’t forget about you. You can come along if you’re willin’ to cut your visit here short or we can get ourselves or another tribe to pick you up later. But we made sure to leave room for extra passengers and supplies.”

Eliseo looked to Florena imploringly.

“I will not be insulted if you left early,” the queen assured him.

“Thank you your majesty,” Eliseo bowed respectfully to the queen before inquiring to the goblin. “How many extra passengers did you prepare for?”

Lucky shrugged. “Depends on how much they weigh. We anticipated you and your drake.”

“Tarica…” Eliseo whispered at first but it was clear to an elf’s ears. He offered a hand to her. “Would you like to join us?” He added as an afterthought to the goblin, “If that is allowed.”

Tarica stared at the hand in silence. This was too fast for her elven mind, they would be leaving in the morning.

The goblin’s grin grew a little broader, revealing a row of razor-sharp teeth. “I was informed of you but I heard no word of an elf.” He bowed like a little gentleman to Tarica and Eliseo. “I was bein’ rude to not introduce myself. My name is Lucky, my lady. I think the chief would be insist that the human noble come if that is his wish but there is little room on our zephyrler for strangers.”

“You can discuss such plans later tonight or in the morning,” Florena halted the conversation. “Visitors should not worry over their departure the same moment they arrive. Eat and make merry first, I insist.”

That was not entirely the end. Florena discussed matters with Lucky over the invitation of the rest of the zephyrler’s crew, the queen making sure there were enough room and seats for everyone.

While those two were so engrossed, beads of sweat covered Sinker’s forehead and rolled off his nose.

Tarica wondered if a friendly snicker would prove too much to lighten the mood. The temptation to ask why a robust orc like you was scared of a goblin named Lucky scratched at her mind but her thoughts were still on the offer.

“Why would you invite me?” Tarica asked Eliseo.

“Come on, Tarica. We make for good company. Such a fine fellowship should not be divided. Please come with us.” Tarica silently agreed that life in the forest without those two would be dull and predictable once the wonder faded. The only conflict she had to enjoy was their little incident, otherwise it had been peaceful days and dreamless nights.

How long would such days last? Would she be able to spend centuries in idleness or would she awake some time soon to discover the forest disturbed by another of her sisters’ intrusions? What evidence did she have her sisters had lost the trail and how could she be sure that they would fail a second time? She had not heard news of other intruders for a season but that meant little to an elf.

*****

The feast proceeded as the queen wished. The entire crew was present and the queen relayed her instruction to her subjects in the time it took for the last soul to vacate the vessel.

Tarica would have preferred to have abstained from the festivities entirely. Still, she stayed, trying not to garner attention in spite of Eliseo and Sinker gravitating towards her. She might have left if Florena had not stayed as well.

As long as Florena remained in the room, she felt safe from curious eyes. The queen did not demand attention through word or action but by her very presence alone. It seemed the visiting orcs and goblins only dared to look away to maintain some proper form of etiquette when addressing others. The room was a strange mix of jovial and quiet, everyone was smiling but no one dared to raise their voice louder than Florena lest they missed the occasion she saw to speak.

The queen conversed with each and every attendant, seemingly memorizing their names and interests, always having at least one complement to offer. Perhaps that was how Satros spoke to others if meeting a group, though Tarica felt there would have been more banter. Florena seemed to let others talk to her, discovered some truth to them, afforded them acknowledgment before offering a piece of insight or advice.

After the feasting reached its peak and the rhythm started to slow Lucky asked, “You sure we aren’t overstaying our welcome? You don’t mind having a machine with a boiler tucked in with wood, leaves, and other combustibles? I don’t think your followers down south would be so comfortable.”

Tarica had to assume the goblin was referring to the Oasis Elves of DeassalaThe people Sinker was supposed to secure a delivery for before heading home.

“I assure you, their temperament is not a reflection of my own,” Florena replied softly. “I do not begrudge you your inventions. Your workings come from seeking understanding rather than control. In its own way, I can see the beauty in your designs. However, I find the cost too great but what is done is done.”

“I appreciate the compliment.”

“You are most welcome.”

The goblin raised a glass to her. “Is there anyone you don’t get along with?”

“I would rather not speak ill of those that might trouble me lest that make our relations more tense,” she spoke diplomatically. “I believe the best way to change others is to live a life that others might want to live and show them the means to reach it. If I live a peaceful and pleasant life then others might wish to join me. I would not want others to be afraid to approach my way of life because I myself was unpleasant to them.”

“Ah, I prefer to let the chief handle the diplomacy,” the goblin replied briskly. Tarica thought the queen’s were worthy of some contemplation and found the quick answer jarring as she listened.

Florena drew closer to the goblin. “But you are still your group’s chief engineer, correct?” she assessed him regally. There was no hint of disapproval in her voice but for all the softness it carried, it lacked the soothing tone she normally used, a kind warning. “How you conduct yourself molds the impression others who know less of your people see your kind, be it for good or ill. Eventually an idea forms.”

This earned a moment of thought from the goblin, his brow furrowed. “And…” he began, hoping for her to continue. “If they already have an idea?

“One does not destroy an idea through force of arms or by rejecting it utterly. One offers a solution,” the queen continued solemnly at first but gradually built back into the tone fit for such a festitivity as if to revitalize the atmosphere. “Which I would imagine a mind brilliant enough to have metal and wood fly would have little difficulty reaching. One sees the merits in another's arguments and then offers something greater. Offering nothing or, worse, nothing but opposition grants no substance.”

The queen pondered for a moment. “Those that already have an idea of you,” she wondered. “Do you speak of the Oasis Elves or are there others that come to mind?”

“We got a few friendly and not so friendly rivals but yeah,” the goblin confirmed. “it’s the Oasis Elves that I am under the impression are not happy with us.”

“I must ask if they said anything crass to you that you forgive them and to inform me if they brought any harm.” The queen spoke with confidence as though she might be able to bear the entire world. Tarica nurtured the illusion that the Forest Elf indeed could. “That is my responsibility as the one they once lived under.

“I will keep that in mind, your highness,” the goblin accepted jovially.

The conversations continued but they were of more personal matters. With the party slowing and readying for closing, most of the orcs and goblins came to notice Tarica, the elf sitting among them and listening but offering little to be known of herself. Proper etiquette compelled most to at least inquire as to her name which she disclosed freely but when they tried to go deeper, Florena proved to be there to rescue her, drawing attention away from the assassin at the slightest sign of discomfort.

One such moment was when she finally could not postpone being addressed any longer as the guests became ever more curious of her presence and connection to the two that were certain to depart.

“It is all well and good for Sinky and Don Arenos y Dotido to bring a guest but how should we address you miss?” Lucky called out. “The chief is a stickler for proper etiquette when it comes to diplomacy. How should we address you?”

Tarica froze. She paused for only a moment but it was a vital instant that haunted the room for its absence. Tarica began moving her lips unsure whether the words forming on her tongue would be the truth or a lie.

“If she travels with you, I will have you know she represents me,” Florena asserted. “You may address her as my dignitary.”

Tarica, from her time as an assassin knew how to hide her expression well but she was certain that while her face betrayed nothing, her eyes widened at the sudden development. She nodded and gestured affirmation as though she anticipated being granted the lofty position.

“As she is with Satros and Malendar,” Florena continued. This time Tarica had been prepared and her composure remained steady. Eliseo and and Sinker traded glances with each other and the human noble wordlessly shrugged to his companion that they were in the company of someone so favored. “Her travels represent our combined will. I do not believe I must tell you of such to expect hospitality from you but if she ever leaves your company I expect you to inform anyone that might escort her of her position. Treating her well will earn others our favor but do not expect her to speak on the behalf of a single one of us. One can not be expected to understand the will of three.”

“Oh, a very important person indeed. We will be sure to take care of her,” promised Lucky. He raised his small wooden cup. “Right everybody.”

The other orcs and goblins raised their drinks and cheered.

“Though I imagine if she must journey further abroad,” the queen postulated. “Satros would be eager to have her aboard once more so please keep us informed if you can.”

If she was to leave, Tarica admitted to herself she would be quick to miss the queen and her forest.

*****

The festivities like all things of the world died down. Orcs had commendable constitutions from their sheer mass but like Eliseo and Sinker discovered, found elven wine to be potent. Fortunately, Florena moderated them enough so that they will regret their decisions less in the morning and diluted it greatly for the goblins or else the goblins with their minor frames might find it fatal.

Eventually it was only the elves that found themselves awake. One by one the nonelves gracefully retired or were brought to their rooms until only Florena and Tarica remained in that room.

Tarica tilted her head as she reviewed the night’s conversations. “Do you truly not mind the goblin’s machinery? Their tools are propelled by fire.”

Florina looked at her for a moment in assessment. “Even my forest is not a stranger to wildfires. If worms do not eat the branches quickly there might be warm and ill-fortuned summers. It is good for wood to be burned sometimes before it accumulates into something that can not be controlled. Though there are far better uses for such combustions.”

“I would think your Forest was beyond such hazards,” Tarica said. “The trees here mock winter. Other acts of nature seem petty in comparison to the might of the year’s darkest season.”

Florina gestured to the view outside, a small forest growing upon one of the Great Tree’s branches. At this point Tarica at least grew familiar with the baffling scale of the place. “Even the Great Tree at times must be pruned. If a branch fell then all those directly below it might suffer greatly. It would be natural for such an event to occur but we prefer for it to be ushered into a more gentle repose. We give our larger samples to Satros so he might not fell some poor tree in distant lands.”

Tarica recalled Satros describing his vessel as a corpse to the forest. Would he have used such language if it was harvested from a fallen branch?

“So, Satros could maintain his armada without needing to harm a single plant?”

“He could.” Florena shook her head sadly. “He certainly could but that would not meet his ends. We compromise but he makes no promises he does not intend to keep.”

Florena sighed and looked to west as if she could see the ocean beyond her soil, past Malendar’s borders “But elves such as him and those akin to him were never meant for eternal oaths, they act and react to every little thing.” She laughed bittersweetly. “Satros once told me that if stone could float, he would shape a ship from it instead of wood. Can you guess the first thing he did upon encountering a volcanic island? After giving his greetings to the natives, of course.”

Tarica thought earnestly but imagined too many odd things. She waved her hand as if to push the question away. “I fear I can not begin to guess. My impression of him is based only on what my king had to share and my own short interactions with him.”

Florena gave a melancholic smile. “He shaped a vessel from pumice.”

“Why do I not often hear of this? Why are there not ships of stone sailing into ports across the world?”

“Because we are strangers to igneous stone. But we were raised among trees and it is woodwork we understand best and Satros in spite of being ageless values speed and motion. It would not surprise me if he might still be making advances in stonework as ignoring opportunities would be just as anathema to him as settling for a subpar craft.”

Tarica lacked the understanding of masonry to accurately envision the process one might undergo for a ship of floating rock. Her own people wrought their greatest vessels from metal but needed sorcerers for locomotion.

“What other alternatives have been considered.”

“Several. He said if ice never melted, he would ride upon a glacier. He journeyed into the north to try to find eternal frost. But do you notice a pattern in such promises?”

“He is placing a condition,” Tarica assessed. “It is a promise to try, not to succeed.” Such promises showed both honesty at best and perhaps hopefully at worst a lack of commitment.

“He is very much a being of the present. That is why he did not join me and Malendar in our oaths to peace. Instead he swore so long as Ordelas drew breath, he would not put away his weapon.”

Tarica thought of her invitation from Eliseo. This could be either just another conversation or or her last one with the queen.

“With your oath with Malendar in mind,” Tarica began. “I would inquire as to your trust towards other peoples. I believe your words with the goblins and orcs to be sincere and you speak only well of them even when disagreeing with them. But the one that invited me was Eliseo, a human and one of his destinations will be the empire of the dwarves if his plans for travel remain unchanged. Eliseo spoke of how you donate to humans but I heard no such mention of dwarves regularly enjoying such agreements.”

For the first time Tarica found Florena falter in providing a response. For a moment the queen seemed ready to say something else but remembered her company was a Dark Elf.

“I will not insult your intelligence. I will assume you noticed or inferred from time serving other lands that if there is anyone that I find difficult to maintain diplomatic relations with, it is dwarves and humanity.”

“You and Eliseo seem to share pleasantries just fine,” Tarica observed.

“There are always exceptions though Don Eliseo Arenos y Dotido is not the greatest example of one that would call oneself nature’s ally but also not among the worst those that would call themselves industrious. There is a reason I strike so many bargains with humans. Humans would place a collar upon the almighty if they had the opportunity. I find them as a whole to be incompatible with my philosophy in most cases so I must be most willing to compromise with them.” Florena looked at Tarica unsure if what she what said next required explanation or not. “There are these plant people in the lands the human alliances have claimed called synyins. Are you aware of them?”

Tarica: “I am aware. Though they number too few and lack in power be it political or military for me or any of my sisters to ever target a single one of them…” She thought of the secrecy behind her own missions at times. Her missions were no hidden from them but communications at times was scarce enough that she might accidentally cross paths with them in their hunts. “At least I never did,” she corrected.

Florena considered that. “One of my agreements is for me to provide the resources that would be otherwise provided from their soil to the nations that claim them so that the synyins can remain undisturbed. They were almost driven to extinction by humanity. I would have those that remain journey here and live with us in safety. I even have a few living here but the West is their home.”

Florena sat as if drained by the very memories of old and recent negotiations. “I do not wish to speak any further of such things. Better to speak and hear of good. I believe you already are aware enough of the failings of dwarves. I need not speak evils when you already call them your enemy but I will say that your bias is hopefully exaggerated for I can say without hesitation that they are mostly a honorable and reliable folk.”

The queen looked eastward as she continued. “I would be happy to bind dwarves in oaths as I would trust their word but they trust in their own power and see little in what I have to offer nor I in their workings. Malendar and Satros are graced with friendlier commerce than I and I will not resent the two for possessing such relations.”

Tarica thought about her own people’s conflict with the Golden Empire. “If I may ask, where were you when my people waged war with the dwarves? Or is that an ill matter?”

The queen looked to her. “It is a matter worthy of a truthful answer.” Florena accepted. “I believe I was communing with the forest at the time, deep in the wilderness where news of me neither escaped nor word from outside could reach me. Though even if my realm was established as it is now, I-“

“I apologize for interrupting but please allow me to hazard a guess before you continue.” Tarica needed to guess. She could not easily begrudge someone for something she anticipated the way she could not anger herself for a bee’s sting or frost’s bite.

“I find it impolite,” Florena acknowledged softly. “But I will decide whether I find it unflattering or not based on what you think of me,”

“Am I right to believe you would not have aided either side or perhaps you would helped both?” Either way, the queen would have either neglected her kindred or aided the not yet Dark Elves’ enemies. Tarica had to say that before Florena did otherwise, the queen not helping her people would prove difficult to overlook.

“You guess correctly though I know not what I would have chosen between those two extremes,” Florena pondered. “What I knew of dwarves came from both Satros and the trees, not of my own experience. I heard of both a wonderful and terrible people, one I would either happily offer succor or swiftly shun. Then I had Alfar, one of my own kind yet one banished from my home unlike Satros and I who chose to leave. I fear I would have shied from engaging with both if they called upon me.”

Tarica’s lips began to move.

“Satros chose to journey south so neither side could call upon him,” Florena added before a question could be asked. “Let that be known as he is not here to answer that himself.”

“What do you ask of the dwarves?” Tarica inquired. “Would you arrange with them a similar exchange for them to mind the sovereignty of their forests.”

“I certainly would but such offers from me have been declined. The greatest arrangement I ever made with those great miners, smiths, and warriors was that they were to not slay any dragon that was captured through my assistance. They gritted their teeth and even shunned my solution in the face of the Doomlord so they might end him forever but they resorted to my methods and kept their word.”

Tarica remembered the time so recently, what would have been mere months back when the queen refrained from offering such knowledge on account to Tarica still viewing the Dark Kingdom as her home. That had not changed.

“I thought you were not supposed to share such details with me,” Tarica reminded the queen carefully, unsure now if she heard something she was not meant to.

“Should I not share such trivialities with my own dignitary or refrain from the truth when speaking with a representative of Satros and Malendar?” Florena asked matter-of-factly.

Tarica’s eyes widened. “You meant that?”

“I do not lie,” Florena declared. “Honesty is as much a virtue to those born in the homeland as it is for Dark Elves.”

“How did you make dwarves accept such an unfavorable pact.”

“It was simple. I presented them the conditions and ultimately it was a matter of whether they would agree and receive my help or decline and have me not provide the assistance necessary.”

“You forced them to agree before you helped?” Tarica exclaimed in surprise. “The world was burning.”

“They and Satros said something similar those short centuries ago,” Florena remembered. “I would not have bargained with them if I knew I asked the impossible. We also lost half of the Forest for the means they sought and I would not let such a sacrifice be in vain. It was worthwhile for even the slightest chance the world might recover when the war was over. What was the point of victory if the only prize was ash and bones?”

“My kind would settle for such a victory,” Tarica stated both solemnly yet a faint sense of pride in her people’s resolve.

“And that is why I had to make sure our conclusion would not be the same as theirs,” Florena declared. “Or else it mattered not which side won if destruction was the only means and outcome.”

Tarica heard how the Light Elves were little different from the Dark Elves in their militant affairs and what cost they might have been willing to pay to see the war end. Malendar his people were still young in the idea of war. It was strange enough to elves from the homeland to have a concept of “enemies” that they likely needed to wholehearted accept it at the time or else falter.

The Dark Elf could grasp how a pleasantly naive philosophy might grow once Light Elves had time to understand how allies like the dwarves and orcs could become friends and ask if the same could be said of the opposite? I

Would they not still be lacking in enemies if we made them friends rather than destroy them? Would they not have more allies that way? It was simple math that led to the sights of foreigner’s in Malendar’s capital, Satros’s strange choice of decor, and Tarica being accepted by the three monarchs.

Tarica noticed the mention of Satros. “What did Satros have to say in the matter?”

“He sided with the dwarves during such negotiations. When dragons were compared to a storm he said “I would kill a storm if I could. If the winds might lead a storm to flood or ruin a countryside, I would be obliged to stop it if I had such power.”

“I would wish to know what trail of thought led him to say that,” Tarica requested. She tried to imagine Satros saying such a choice of words.

“The subject was agency. A common topic for debate,” Florena clarified. “I argued one could not blame a storm for the destruction it brought about as a storm had no choice as to its path. Dragons while having individuality are obliged to obey their Dragonlord the way a pack of lions obey the pride leader. I hope that comparison is apt, I fear I have little chance to lions or dragons anymore.”

“I see,” Tarica processed with a nod. “Does Satros hate dragons then? I imagine he did not appreciate such grand predators in the sky and seas he sailed upon.”

“No, he loves dragons,” Florena corrected. Tarica was grateful that her lord’s own appreciation for dragons went unmentioned in that moment. “If you seek creatures he nurtures a quarrel with, it would be sea serpents.”

Tarica considered the distinction between sea serpents and the sea dragons she herself had never seen. Sea serpents were animalistic and supposedly their natural prey were whales. Not that many observers have the opportunity to witness such a spectacle, lest those watching become prey themselves.

They were yet another reason the world seemed split in two for so long as ships proved appealing targets for the beasts. However, advancements in ships and weaponry diminished the threat as well as their population.

“I can see where they might have troubled a voyage of his,” Tarica considered. She lowered her head in thought. “It is unfortunate. Satros offered me a second voyage and the more I hear, the more I wish to call upon him for such a voyage. But it would be rude to reject Eliseo and Sinker’s company to ask for another journey with Satros.”

“Satros will be sailing until the end of days,” Florena promised. “Among the very stars if he can. Those two will not. Appreciate their time if that is what you choose.”

Tarica remembered her lord’s intentions. “The end of days may be soon upon us.”

“That is a persistent worry for many. As one that had lived through what many feared were the end times, I have this to say,” the queen offered optimistically. “All we know is that the end draws closer but we are blind to how close it is. It could be further than the horizon or a hair’s breadth away. I would think it better to only have one’s final moments suddenly stolen than to sacrifice ages to dread. I would advise to live as though tomorrow is a certainty.”

“That is-” Tarica stopped herself from offering criticism to her elder. It seemed particularly indolent even for an elf.

“A human once said to me that such a view is the enemy of wisdom and progress,” Florena voiced an approximation of what the Dark Elf wished to say. “I find myself unsatisfied with others’ idea of progress but I believe it might still be wise. A farmer would sustain one’s crop for the harvest if the sun was to rise the next day. Diligence and sloth depend on the person, as much as it does the day.”

Tarica remained silent as she asked herself what her people would do if they lived believing the opposite, that doomsday was tomorrow. Would warriors put away their arms, believing their enemy would be gone or would they throw away their lives in battle, knowing the end was already at hand?

Tarica might have spent some time in contemplation as the next words she heard from Florena were “It is late. You will want this chance to rest if you intend to travel goblins and their loud machinery. If that is what you wish.”

The statement came as a prompt, an unspoken question and Tarica took a breath before deciding, “I would leave with them if they allow me.”

“A single night is a short time to consider,” Florena commented. “If you feel the same way in the morning, I will offer no opposition. But I would feel more comfortable knowing you are certain.”

*****

Lucky did not argue with Tarica’s addition in the morning and quickly agreed. “I am sure that Chief Rugash will be happy to know that Sinky has made friends with an elf.”

Florena took Tarica aside and asked, “Are you sure of this?”

Tarica nodded. “Since someone tried to follow me here, it is best that I leave.”

“But moving from place to place because another is chasing you will not guarantee you safety.”

“I know,” Tarica informed her.

“As long as you know,” Florena relented. She placed a her hands over Tarica’s shoulders and the queen gently pressed her forehead against the Dark Elf’s.

The queen returned the Dark Elf to her company. The craft had lifted and floated above them in the gap between tree limbs. The goblins and orcs were pulling Eliseo and Sinker’s belongings abroad with chains.

The goblins intended to board their vessel as it was intended to be and abstained from the bridge of vines offered the the Great Tree. They possessed a measure of trust and pride in their invention while the moving plants might as well have been among the arcane.

“Leave here with both my supplies and blessings,” Florena bid them all goodbye.

Sinker, Eliseo, and Tarica lined up to board behind Lucky. A rope came down, and Lucky tied the rope to Sinker first. Tarica watched as the goblins pulled the orc, who was praying with his eyes closed, up into the zephyrler.

Lucky seemed disappointed that Eliseo only brought one trunk. A majority of the bustle was for the resources Florena provided.

“That's it? No bathtub and buckets?” the goblin asked the human.

Eliseo pointed to his back as Little Noble climbed up his legs and latched on like the creature was a shouldbag. “And one drake,” the human confirmed before the rope came down for him.

“We have a few rules here,” Lucky explained. “You’re a guest so you don’t need to worry about most but most important is no fire.”

“No fire?” Eliseo repeated while Tarica thought about the warm meal she was served with Satros.

“Yeah, this baby is filled with flammable gas. One spark could set it ablaze if things go wrong just the right way.”

“I do not remember Satros enforcing such a rule,” Tarica interjected. “Do you use different mechanisms from him?”

Lucky pointed at his nose. “You elves can smell a leak. Half of our crew and-“ he pointed at the human and orc. “Two out of three of our guests can’t.”

Tarica affirmed understanding and let it be. Florena presented a box to Tarica during Eliseo’s ascent. “I hoped you would have stayed longer, but I have prepared something especially for you. Please, accept this gift from the kavuidens and me.” Tarica opened the package and saw that it was filled with several kinds of seeds and leaves. There was also a fresh bag of dreamfruits. The queen held Tarica’s hand between both of hers. “May the Creator of all bless your journey.” She hugged Tarica, and the elves said farewell.

It was Tarica’s turn, so Lucky threw the rope to her. He tied the rope to her waist and waited for another rope to be lowered. He wrapped the second one around himself and said, “There are three important things you need to know. Hold on. Don’t look down. Most importantly, don’t forget to watch your head.” Tarica took a deep breath and held on tight while she and the goblin were pulled up simultaneously.

She did however look down. Again, the scale of the Great Tree distorted distance. Her mind wanted to envision that she was just barely above a normal branch but truly she would have quite a fall to what might as well have been an airborne peninsula of wood. Fortunately her time in the upper branches acclimated her to such heights and did not make her heart race with fear or dread.

When she reached the zephyrler, orcs and goblins were lined up, ready to meet her. The zephyrler was not as streamlined as the Jewel of the Skies, but it worked, and that was all that seemed to matter to the goblins onboard.

As they neared the border of Malendar’s kingdom, Tarica noticed someone standing near the edge of the forest. The orcs and goblins noticed the vibrant figure below but could not see details the Tarica glimpsed, not without telescopes and such but a single person warranted no such tools.

Tarica turned her back to the one below and stepped away so the deck might conceal her. She thought for a moment to ask Eliseo or Sinker to describe what they saw to her but she could not trust nonelven eyes. Instead, she held up her stringsaw bracelet and observed the reflection.

“Oh, a Light Elf,” screeched a goblin, who waved at the elf that was staring at the zephyrler.

When the brown-haired elf waved back, the orcs and goblins did not notice how Tarica shuddered at the sight. That was not a Light Elf. The patterns on the elf’s ornate robe were too subtle for the crew to see from far away. Tarica saw how the designs shifted with the elf’s every move.

“Hílainno,” breathed Tarica as she stared at the reflection of her battle sister. She noticed her sister making a combination of gestures. It was Dark Elven signal language. Her sister spelled with her hands, “I see you.”

Tarica turned to check how she might have been revealed. In doing so, she exposed herself through the movement of her reaction. She could sense the smile on the other elf’s face even though she could not see it.

“She fooled me,” she whispered to herself. She never thought that Hílainno might lie to her. Only Hílainno could have performed such a trick, intercepting and greeting passersby as if she belonged there.

They passed over the assassin, and Tarica ran to the back deck so she could keep her eyes on her fellow Dark Elf. Hílainno eagerly watched as the craft passed over her.

Tarica stood out and signaled, “I am well.”

There was a moment where the world stood still. “Stay safe,” her sister signed back. With a final wave that seemed directed to Tarica, Hílainno turned and headed back toward their homeland.