“Seeking constant improvement is a healthy trait to have. After all, our society is based on magic and skills, so an untrained person is as useless as it gets. Of course, you have to temper your thirst for levels with wisdom, for a corpse is only useful for necromancers. Thankfully, monsters don’t seem to have this sort of acumen, and their battling against one another is what allows our cities to prosper undisturbed.”

-Professor Alaric, teaching from The Beacon of Civilization.

Nashariel pov

The dragokin parried the dual slice from Dan. She lunged, but her retaliation was nulled by Dorel’s [Taunt]. Growling, she launched on the shield-wielder, but the air itself stopped her path. Veliel chanted, and her defenses crumbled. You’ve improved, haven’t you? Thought Nashariel with a satisfied grin. The siren had been unable to affect her mind for quite some time. Maybe their forced stay within this forest was truly beneficial, after all.

Dan stabbed her from behind, his daggers aiming at Nashariel's joints. His weapons easily sheared her armor and broke through part of her scales.

Whistling in appreciation, the girl wrapped her tail at the smirking human. She tightened the grapple, then slammed him on the ground once. Before she could do it a second time, two mental attacks struck in tandem.

Veliel shredded her protection again, while Dorel attracted her focus. The priestess had brought up her wand, chaining yet another spell.

Nashariel found her limbs growing heavy, while her brain seemed to slow down to a halt. She switched to Mind, doubling her mental prowess. The added mental might allowed her to retake control of her body, just in time to roll out of the way from a [Sound blast] cast from the winged priestess.

Standing up with a flip, Nashariel used the momentum to jump above the Defender. He instinctually brought up his shield to block, which allowed Nashariel to use it as an improvised platform, propelling herself against the wide-eyed siren.

Something punched her guts, stealing her breath away and propelling her to the side. Moments later, a flurry of daggers followed her trajectory.

Damn, someone invested in strength, didn’t he? Mentally grunted Nashariel, summoning a tower shield right in front of her. She extended her wings, then, after the last metallic clink, the dragokin flew high. She noticed that her team was holding together tightly, as she instructed them to do for years, to support each other’s defenses. Smiling, Nashariel shifted to Metal, then unleashed her mundane breath attack.

Dorel’s defense shone bright, tanking the full hit without trouble. The physical shield sucked in its mana double, sending back to Nashariel double the accumulated potency.

Expecting it, the girl twirled out of the way, dropping on the wooden floor. She quickly thumped in her chest in anticipation. She went on all fours, all her limbs tensed. A moment later, she leaped ahead like a spring, grinning all the way.

Dorel muttered a curse. He slammed his shield to the ground, undoubtedly bracing for impact.

Smirking, Nashariel re-summoned her spear. She impaled the ground ahead of her, using her now broken weapon as a jumping rod. She saw Dorel’s shocked face, then looked at her other two friends. The smirk froze on her face.

A flurry of daggers and [Sound blasts] were already an inch from her. Behind them, both Dan and Veliel grinned widely, waving a hand and a wing at her.

Well played! Nashariel endured the various ‘thunks’ against her body, together with the almost solid balls of air that screamed in her ears. She landed on the other side, bouncing twice against the hardwood. Oof, everyone’s improved I see. More like I ‘feel’, actually. Smiling, Nashariel jumped back up, signaling the end of the encounter.

Her friends sighed in relief.

Nashariel cleaned the blood coming out of her mouth, then regarded the small (literally) crowd in front of her. “As you saw, protecting one another doesn’t weaken you in the slightest. Sure, a party must specialize in different ways, and all of you will be expected to have a few skills each, but it will be worth it.” She declared.

A little girl timidly raised her hand.

“Go on.”

“W-what was… the shield thingy?”

Nashariel needed a moment to process that. “You mean his skills?” She asked indicating Dorel. The girl nodded. “That was a skill from an attunement called ‘Protection’, an Aspect of the Light element. It’s specialized in attracting monsters’ attention and defending your allies. It also attacks by using your enemy’s strength against them.”

Some kids paled. “But isn’t it dangerous?” Someone muttered in shock.

Nashariel nodded. “Indeed it is, that’s why you need someone like her,” she indicated Veliel, who smiled, “or me, to heal you. The best would be someone with a Healing attunement, another branch of Light that specializes in curing your party. An unbreakable defense, we might say.”

“How does this ‘Healing’ attack?” This time, an older teen asked. He looked skeptical, but not overly so.

Nashariel shook her head. “Basic Light attacks, and that’s all.” Aren’t they taught about the various elements? I guess that they’re all forced into Wood, but still…

The crowd looked unimpressed. Everyone knew that Light was the weakest offensive element by far, at least.

The dragokin sighed. Do they like to throw their lives away? “Any other question?”

“The singing?” Asked a boy.

“Sound. Somewhat supportive and offensive at the same time. She’s a siren, though, so you’ll need to invest a bit more in your air capacity to imitate her well enough. That said, you saw how much her spells and her songs combined weakened my defenses, and those are my specialties.”

That attracted a few more curious looks.

After a few more questions, the training day ended. The future Rangers dashed back at the inn. The slow ones were washed nearby with cold water.

Nashariel looked away. She found something like that to be ridiculous, but this wasn’t her home. I’m starting to miss it for real… turning to her friends, she broke into a grin. “Have you practiced without me?”

Dan grinned. It looked more like a grimace. “Can’t really avoid that in this forest now, can’t we? Might as well reap the goods, while we’re at it.”

Nashariel looked at her points. Considering that most of them had been halved by her skill… “Still, this is what Templars do all the time. We must be up to the task, even if we needed two more years for that to happen. One and a half by now, but you get the point.” Pun unintended but appreciated.

Her friends nodded. Dorel looked down for a long moment, but he steeled himself, nodding again.

Glad you’re feeling better.

“Boss, your aura is active again.” Wrote Veliel, snickering.

Cheeks flushing, Nashariel shut off her Presence. It activated each time she taught. Is this why I gathered so much attention? She mused. “Thanks…” She cleared out her throat. “Now, for the review of the fight…”

An entire week had passed since the Astillians had set foot in the giant willow. Valar reassured them that the Elder should’ve been available by now, and yet…

Nashariel was having fun stepping into her teacher role once more, but every time she looked at the entrance, tension built up in her body. Tension that she had to bleed off by continuously doing things. If going out didn’t cost the whole group six months to a year out of their homes, she would have already lost her inner battle. Thankfully, some Rangers asked to spar with her, once Nashariel proved how easily she handled the younger ones. Draconic stats helped even in a dragokin’s body.

They didn’t need to know.

At the moment, the girl exercised alone. Helping Delos with his weapon’s choice reminded her about her rustiness with manufactured weapons in general. It had been a long while since she had practiced, between the rebuilding of Althei and the travel here in dragon form. I might need to acquire [Weapon mastery] one of these days. So many things to choose from…

Swing by swing, her thoughts flowed. She thought about her family, regretting not having brought the enchanted mirror with her. At the time, ripping it off the wall for a few days outside had seemed a little excessive, but…

Some steps behind her interrupted her reasoning. Nashariel turned, using a hand to remove the sweat dripping on her eyes. How long have I been at it?

The Ranger nodded towards her. “The Elder will meet you in two days. Be ready at tomorrow’s dawn.” He announced, leaving a moment later.

Not people of many words, uh? Still, Nashariel sighed in relief. Why tomorrow if he’s available in two days? Shrugging, the dragokin walked towards the inn.

"Finally." Sighed Dorel, as soon as Nashariel had told the news.

“Should we put on a dress or something? The Elder seems like a big deal.” Proposed Dan.

"No," answered Nashariel, "elves respect might. I'd say we go fully armored, but let's give them one last wash."

At dawn, the Templars were all already up and ready. They waited at the entrance, chattering nervously between them.

“Do you think they’ll really help us?” Asked Veliel, for the third time.

Forcing herself to not roll her eyes, Nashariel nodded.

The same Head-Ranger that let them in the first day entered. If he was surprised to see them already up and about, he didn’t show it. The elf gestured them to go outside.

The Templars waved at Valar. The innkeeper and his maids had been most kind to them in these days.

Outside, three Rangers waited for them, each one looking deadly-serious. The Head-Ranger was the fourth and gestured them to follow. The others waited for the Astillians to move, before surrounding them.

Trying to appear as indifferent as possible, Nashariel scanned all the possible ways to get out. Are they scared that we’ll hurt the Elder? This security is… worrying. In turn, the dragokin was ready to power her metallic aura at a moment’s notice.

The Head-Ranger led them to a set of stairs that ran along with the outer bark. They were simple but looked brand new even to Nashariel's sight. Shouldn’t they be worn out? Mhmm… is it Wood magic or is this tree is special? Both? They met some groups heading out or returning in, but none of them did anything more than glance at them.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the first ring's height. They could finally see the various shops and houses that towered over them since the first day. They looked pretty much identical to the village's, minus the stone that the people used to reinforce them after the rebuilding. Another difference that caught Nashariel's eye was the outstanding number of pelts worn by the people.

She was used to seeing them on Rangers, but the civilians in Althei wore simpler clothing. I guess that they are all hunters in here. Their level had to come from somewhere, uh? I wonder if they have trophies inside their homes too… for obvious reason, Althei had no such things yet.

A plethora of bright motes floated around seemingly without purpose. Sometimes they approached sellers, trading some kind of dust in exchange for an article.

“What do they pay with?” Asked Nashariel, seeing one of such exchanges. She recalled something about metal being toxic for fairies, so they could hardly trade coins.

The Ranger closest to her glanced at a fairy buying something nearby. “Fairy dust, usually. You might also ask them for favors or monster parts, but those cost a lot.”

Nashariel recalled Phillia talking about the Dust used as an enchantment. “What do you use it for, if I may ask?”

The Ranger smiled briefly. “It’s no secret that Fairy dust is naturally magical and it helps tremendously in magical works, such as engraving runes or creating magical items.”

The conversation eased the atmosphere, thankfully.

Nashariel had a brief flash regarding runes and the element that would introduce her to that world, once she was 25. Elves had no such worries, as curses to better slay a specific prey were seen as nothing more than helpful.

Gulping, the dragokin engaged in some more conversation. Turns out, elves loved talking about their presumed creators.

She learned that most kinds of fairies didn’t like cities, save for the pixies, who adored to fly around to prank people. Dryads were the only regulars since most of them were birthed by the Trophies and dedicated their lives to protect and better it and its inhabitants.

For Nashariel was quite interesting learning about the different kinds of fairies. The elves comprehensively avoided the topic on how to confront them better, but the dragokin could have written a page or two on how to best approach them, starting with what did they like best: sweets.

And pranks, lots of pranks.

At some point, they paused. Nashariel didn’t notice, but they had already walked for half a day. How big is this tree? She asked herself, peering down the hollowed center. That’s a big fall.

The habitations had changed. They were larger, their woods more refined, and some pelts were used to cover their roofs, so large the monster had been in life. Nashariel spotted a black dragon’s pelt in the distance. Judging from the size, he or she had been younger than her, although not by much. Another reminder to not get in over my head. She averted her eyes.

The few elves roaming this high in the tree looked upon them with open condescension. Their equipment, as well as their clothes, looked exquisite. Runes were engraved in every inch of space available.

A shiver ran along Nashariel’s spine. Best not to piss them off.

The Head-Ranger brought them to another inn. It looked surprisingly small, compared to the one below.

The groups entered.

Hunting trophies decorated most of the room. The space itself multiplied tenfold, compared to the outer size. Few patrons filled the tables, but they all looked at them. Some didn't spare them a second glance, most of the others sneered in disdain.

All the uneasiness present at the start of their ascension returned and multiplied.

The Rangers paid it no mind, while the Templars huddled closer to each other.

They were led to a table on the furthest side from the others by the innkeeper. The woman was stern but didn't show them outright hostility, at least.

The Rangers rested their legs, relaxed but not totally at ease. The Templars didn't lower their guard in the slightest.

They were fed some light lunch. Nashariel didn’t even taste it. She sneaked some glances at the hunters. They weren’t paying them any mind, fortunately.

They didn’t get out a moment too soon.

Asking if all high-level elves were arrogant was inappropriate, Nashariel decided. Also, she didn't feel the wish to start a conversation like that here, where the hunters were surely able to listen.

They restarted their climb.

Another inn and a mostly sleepless night later, Nashariel, her friends, and the Rangers came to see the top of the titanic weeping willow.

The open sky shone above them, letting the Astillians directly see the warm sun for the first time in a week. Surprisingly, there were very few houses, and not too precious-looking either.

If Nashariel excluded the fact that they were on top of a tree, she could’ve easily mistaken this scenery as grassland from Andriel. She noticed that many young-looking elves were listening to an old man.

This elf reminded Nashariel of the Grandmaster, maybe for his age, maybe for his elemental-attuned skin. He almost looked like a male dryad, which wasn't a thing, as far as the dragokin knew.

The Rangers motioned them to stay silent and wait.

He’s the Elder, then. He certainly looks like it.

Sometime later, the lesson finished. The Head-Ranger walked towards him.

Taking the cue, the Astillians followed. They could almost taste the ocean.

“Welcome, children of Compassion.” The old man smiled kindly, once they took their seats in front of him. The other elves remained standing, behind them. “Our young Warden told me of your distress, but may I ask you to tell me about your travels?”

Nashariel looked at her friends, who nodded at her. She told the old elf everything since the false priest at the Bastion.

He frowned at Phillia's trapped Quest but didn't interrupt. Nashariel's ‘bath’ earned her a sympathetic look, while the tunnel she dug took a chuckle out of him. “That will be most useful in the future, thank you.” He said.

Nashariel had tweaked the story to hide her true nature, so her feats probably seemed grander than usual. She flashed a smile. “A pleasure, Elder." She gave him a small bow. "Pardon me if I sound rude, Elder, we would like to go home now.”

That was the moment they all waited for. A teleport, a word, and they would find themselves in the Bastion once more.

And everything shattered a mere moment later.

“I can’t help you, I’m afraid.” He replied with a sad smile.

The Templars froze at that statement. The silence prolonged for a while.

“W-why?” Asked Dan.

“Our Spatial-network is reserved for Lyah’thien’s faithful, and only to travel within the forest. I’m sorry.”

Nashariel gritted her teeth. “But we came here with a Teleport circle!”

“Haven’t you seen your priests work on the spell? That was them temporarily connecting with our network, and only because an emergency Quest had been accepted. It won’t work on a normal one.”

“Can’t you… make an exception? We have helped the forest, and we bear no ill-will towards the Huntress.”

The Elder shook his head. Nashariel idly noticed that they looked more like grass stalks rather than hair. "I’m sorry, but I cannot go against our Goddess’ Words, nor I wish to.”

The dragokin pressed on. “Can we receive any help at all?”

The druid looked ponderous for a moment. "You're welcomed guests, from now on. That means that you're allowed in every corner of the Willow and that all basic services will be granted to you for free. You'll also be welcomed to take on any Quest, provided that they’re reasonably within your reach.”

Nashariel sighed an exhausted sigh. All good and all, but… “We can’t stay for long; if we aren’t home before winter’s snows…”

“We are two weeks deep in the harvest season, I’m afraid.” The druid supplied.

Nashariel flinched. Dan cursed in a whisper. Veliel and Dorel silently closed their eyes, probably cursing more privately.

Recalling their chosen route, Nashariel calculated that they weren’t going to make it. They took longer than expected to come here, between their slow walking speed and the constant wave of monsters, and they waited a week and a half for this useless encounter. On top of that, she had been wrong about the time of the year they were in. Nashariel grunted in irritation. Damnation!

“Will you stay?” Asked the Elder after a while. He seemed in no hurry.

Nashariel looked at her team. Like her, they were clenching their fists. Turning towards the druid, she replied. "Elder, I think we may need a moment to reconsider our plans, if you'll allow."

He gestured towards a nice tree somewhat nearby. “Please, take your time.”

The Astillians opened their map. Their icon was pulsing above the city’s, which was deeper in the forest compared to their starting point. Even taking the fastest way to come out, they had to practically eject their butts to make it in time.

“What do we do, guys?” She asked. It all depended on how her friends intended to tackle this. They could decide to speed up, but Nashariel didn’t count on that.

“I don’t like the idea of walking inside a frozen forest, honestly.” Started Dan. “Neither seeing the Bastion next year, but better late than never, right? Actually, do you think they sent someone to retrieve us?”

Nashariel already thought about it, but seeing how understaffed the Church was, and the long-distance they had to walk twice… “Maybe, but I won’t count on that. I’m sure that they will send someone eventually, but we’ll be stuck here for the remainder of the year.”

They remained silent for a minute.

“I say we go.” Announced Dorel, surprising Nashariel. “If we have to spend the rest of the year here, might as well go as far as we can.”

“And we won’t be stressed if we take it slowly.” Supplied Veliel.

That’s… not a bad idea. Not at all. She let out a proud grin. “Good thinking!” That took away a great weight from Nashariel’s shoulders. “Let’s finish the meeting and re-plan our near future, ok?”

The others nodded.

The Elder was sitting in the same position as they left him on. “What have you decided?”

“Nothing specific yet, but we’ll go as far as possible before the true cold. Thank you for your time and help, Elder.” No reason to be impolite.

The Old Druid nodded. "In that case, let me give you these." He touched the ground with four fingers. Greenlight dove beneath the wooden ground, while unseen voices whispered unintelligible things around the group. Moments later, four seeds came out. They were as small as a fingernail and as rough as a walnut. With another flash of green light, they were encased in an emerald-like crystal. The Elder extended them to the Astillians. "These will grant you a secure passage among our walls. They are bound to you, but be careful to not lose them."

The team each grabbed one, giving a thankful nod back. “We won’t, Elder.”

“May the First Hunter look away from your journey, Children of Astill.”

They replied in kind. “May the Eternal Chant bless you and your beloved, Follower of the Hunt.”

And with that, they went back to the Rangers. They had plans to make.

The Templars went straight back at the entrance. Since going down was faster, they decided to not stop for launch to avoid being looked upon like dirt. The Rangers accompanying them agreed.

Just before making it to the lowest floor, the Head-Ranger showed them the main buildings on the first ring.

The Hunter’s hut dealt with monster materials, bought or sold.

The Bounty’s board was available to affix and accept Quests.

Various workers were available to repair and improve equipment.

And the rest of the non-habitations dealt with magic items or alchemy.

The Templars commissioned the repair for their half-destroyed equipment, save for Nashariel who conjured her own. The repair itself was covered by the token they possessed, thankfully. They weren’t short for money, but not in excess either.

Here they still used coins, at least.

Soon after, they told their story to Valar. The innkeeper offered them a larger meal for their morale. It helped little, but the thought was appreciated.

Finally, the gang sat around a table, just after all the kids went to sleep. Dorel looked quite uncomfortable without his armor on, Nashariel mused.

“The smith will have everything ready by tomorrow, so I say we plan for the day after. Objections?” Her friends shook their heads. That established, Nashariel brought out the map, gently dropping it on the table.

Time no longer being a concern, a lot more paths opened for them. The goal was still the closest village to the border, however.

Nashariel waited for everyone to throw in their proposal, before starting with hers.

Unsurprisingly, her friends aimed for a secure path, proposing the slowest one yet again. They were open to taking the Quests that didn't slow them down, at least.

Once everyone turned to Nashariel, she spoke her mind. “I think we could use this opportunity to train.” She dropped. The others fidgeted. “Think about it: This is a high-level zone compared to our home, but the monsters here don’t have an evolved element yet. We can earn a lot more experience than usual while doing less dangerous work.” The dragokin outlined the path she thought was reasonable. Few villages, only two other cities, and a few dangers.

Nashariel had studied the map in great detail since she had to sleep only a night every three or four. This allowed her to examine each danger in great detail and find out what she and her team could safely deal with. She had restrained herself a little bit, but it was a great compromise in her opinion. Some details could change depending on the Quest they decided to take on, but they had nothing but time to spend.

“Risky.” Commented Dorel. He didn’t look opposed to the idea.

Veliel frowned. “We struggled a fair bit while coming here. Is taking this path wise for us? We almost died in a Danger.”

“The stronger we become, the easier it gets.” Nashariel shrugged. “We will have to improve one day or another. I wanna do that before facing a Bastion-sized undead golem.”

The siren hesitated for a moment, before slowly nodding. “I know, but I’m simply afraid that we might bite off more than we can chew. There's a difference in pushing our limits versus ignoring them.”

It’s a fair concern, I suppose. Nashariel turned towards Dan.

"Tell me the way and I'll scout it for you, boss!" He said with a smirk. "That said, why don't we stop here for a while?"

Nashariel tilted her head. “Go on.”

“As Vel rightly pointed out, we might be rushing still. Since we don’t know the area, why don’t we make a few easy levels nearby, before going straight into the Hells? As you said ‘the stronger we become, the easier it gets’.”

Nashariel stood still for a moment. “That… that is something I hadn't thought about. At all." She fought down a wave of embarrassment while considering. We would be near a refuge during our hunts too. “It’s an amazing idea, actually. Dan… are you feeling well?” The girl asked, mockingly touching the Inquisitor’s forehead. “This isn’t like you.”

Dan pushed away from her arm, rolling his eyes. “I’m not a brute like someone.”

“Shut up!” Nashariel laughed.

“I was obviously talking about Vel.”

“Ehy!” The priestess wrote.

“Yeah,” Dan hugged Dorel with one arm. “Dorel, the girls are assaulting us! Quickly, say something to chase them away!”

The Defender slammed his hand on the table. “I have a spoon, and no fear to use it.”

They all bursted laughing.

Finally, the tension accumulated during the previous days started to bleed off them.