The Journey, Book 2; Chapter 31 - Previous Chapter
Chapter 32: Departing
Nekonata raced ahead on his mare, Santaya and Kristolia, his wolves, bounding alongside him. Above, Amira circled, her wingspan having grown impressively since their last flight. Loki the raven perched lazily on Elqiana’s head as she soared higher, Tarasque strapped firmly to her back, her red hair whipping wildly in the wind. Vivi rode close behind on his black horse, Elvina, with Gabija and the others following on their own mounts, leaving the small village far behind.
Hours later, they slowed and gathered to make camp for the night. Neko stretched, his wolves yawning loudly beside him. Amira coiled herself gracefully on the edge of the camp near the massive opal-white dragon, her excitement almost tangible. Gabija glanced at Amira and then back at Neko.
"A saddle is being made in Caa Alora for you and Amira," she said. "She’s big enough to fly on now."
Amira shivered with excitement, the bond between them amplifying her joy so strongly that Neko could feel it in his chest. Vivi knelt to start the fire while Elvina and Tarasque slipped quietly into the forest to hunt, hoping for rabbits, or perhaps a deer if fortune favoured them.
The camp settled into the quiet rhythm of preparation, a fleeting calm before the next leg of their journey.
Neko paused mid-stretch, his eyes flicking over the darkening treeline. A shiver ran down his spine, the hairs on his arms and neck rising as if invisible eyes were upon them. For a heartbeat, the sensation prickled at him, faintly and distantly. Then he shook his head, brushing it off.
Santaya and Kristolia looked up at him, their ears twitching, sensing his unease. Vivi glanced over, concern etched on his face. "Everything okay?" he asked.
Neko simply nodded, offering a small, calm smile, though the unease lingered like a shadow at the edge of his mind.
Tara and Elvina emerged from the forest shadows, dragging a deer between them, with two rabbits slung neatly over Elvina’s back. Neko rose at once, striding forward to take the deer. He hefted it over his shoulders with ease and carried it back toward the firelight. The wolves padded after him, tails swishing.
Elvina tossed a rabbit to each wolf, and both Santaya and Kristolia caught them mid-air with graceful snaps of their jaws. Tara lingered, her gaze locked on Neko as he knelt in the firelight, muscles taut as his knife moved cleanly across the deer’s hide. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. She only watched, drinking in every small motion.
Elvina caught the look, and a knowing smirk curved her mouth. She nudged Tara with her elbow, subtle but pointed, and Tara flushed, hastily busying herself with the vegetables.
“Caa Alora…” Neko said after a quiet moment, glancing up from his work. “What does it look like? And how does a city like that remain hidden from wandering eyes?”
Vivi leaned back against a log, tossing another branch into the flames. “It’s veiled,” he said, matter-of-fact. “The elves who founded it wove their magic into the stones, the trees, even the streams around it. Unless you’re guided to the gates, you’ll walk right past and never know it’s there.”
Gabija picked up smoothly where Vivi left off, her voice carrying the warmth of memory. “But once inside…” She smiled faintly. “You’ll see towering trees older than empires, their trunks shaped into halls and homes by song, their boughs woven into archways that touch the sky. The streets are not carved from stone but formed of great roots, braided and intertwined, humming with the life of the forest itself. Lanterns glow like blossoms, their light coaxed forth by careful whispers in the ancient tongue. Caa Alora was not built as men build cities, it was sung into being. Every wall, every path, every dwelling still breathes, still grows, in harmony with those who dwell there.”
Neko stilled, his knife hovering over the deer hide. The image painted in her words caught at something deep inside him, an ache he couldn’t name, as if he were glimpsing a place he should have always known. His breath slipped out in a quiet sound of awe.
When he glanced up, Tara was staring at him, her eyes soft and intent, almost vulnerable in the firelight. For a heartbeat he forgot to breathe. Heat rushed to his face and he bit his lip, quickly shaking his head as though trying to banish the thought.
Elvina caught the look, and a sly smirk ghosted across her lips before she turned back to the vegetables, saying nothing.
Neko cleared his throat and asked, perhaps too quickly, “So… where did Braiden and Zeindarrys stay in Caa Alora? Surely there must be a place for dragons, somewhere they can rest comfortably?”
Vivi, oblivious to the tension that had just passed, answered easily. “When Braiden and Zeindarrys bonded, the elves of that time sang to the great tree at the heart of Caa Alora. They shaped from it a vast airy, wide and open enough to cradle even the greatest of dragons. Beside it, offset in the roots, they wove a home for Braiden himself. It is said to be one of the most beautiful places in the city, now considered sacred, a place none enter lightly.”
Gabija’s and Vivi’s words lingered in the air, leaving the fire crackling softly as the only sound. Neko sat frozen, caught between her vivid description of Caa Alora and the way Tara’s gaze still rested on him. He dared a quick glance back at her, his cheeks warming, only for Elvina’s smirk to catch the moment and twist the heat into something sharper. Tara’s face flushed, and she looked away hastily, busying her hands with arranging vegetables that didn’t really need arranging.
Neko cleared his throat, trying to shake off the weight of it all. “Have either of you…” he glanced between Gabija, Vivi, and Elvina, “…ever been inside the airy? Or Braiden’s quarters?”
Elvina shook her head softly. Gabija’s lips curved faintly but she too said no.
It was Vivi who nodded, his expression shadowed by memory. “Yes. As a young elf, I was tasked with bringing fresh food to Braiden, and meat for Zeindarrys. I would also transcribe certain things for him, drawings, notes, even the earliest designs of his dragon saddles. He was brilliant, but his handwriting was a nightmare,” Vivi chuckled faintly, though his eyes carried the weight of reverence.
Neko tilted his head, curiosity softening his features. “What was it like… meeting Zeindarrys for the first time?”
Vivi’s smile grew slowly, stretching wider with each heartbeat as the memories poured back. “It was… terrifying,” he admitted, voice hushed with reverence, “and the most awe-inspiring moment of my life. Standing there, watching him shift his wings, feeling the ground tremble just from his weight—your heart doesn’t know whether to stop or race out of your chest. You feel so small, so insignificant, but at the same time… honoured to even be breathing the same air.”
He glanced at Neko, his eyes bright now. “When you see the airy for yourself, and you will, you’ll understand. The size alone is staggering. Amira, right now, compared to Zeindarrys…” He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. “She’d be like a large hound at someone’s heel.”
Elqiana stretched and gave a wide-winged wriggle before coiling back in comfortably beside Amira.
“Yes,” Vivi added with a chuckle, looking to her, “Zeindarrys was three times your size, Elqiana.”
Tara’s eyes widened as she looked at him, then back at her opal-white dragon, jaw slack. “That’s… freaking huge!” she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief.
The campfire cracked, filling the pause with warmth as everyone fell quiet, each of them picturing the scale of the dragon Vivi spoke of.
Neko wiped the blade clean against the grass, setting the skinned hide aside. With quiet efficiency, he handed the carcass over, and Gabija took over, slicing neat cuts of meat and tossing them into the pot with the waiting vegetables. The smell of earth and raw venison mingled with the first hint of simmering stew as Vivi’s voice carried over the firelight.
“Braiden himself…” Vivi’s smile softened, his gaze distant as though he could still see the man standing before him. “He was tall, broad of shoulder, and his eyes,” Vivi gestured faintly, as if words fell short, “they were the clearest blue I’ve ever seen. You could almost mistake them for cold, until he smiled. Then you realised he carried the weight of centuries of knowledge, but still had warmth enough to share with anyone who approached.”
He stirred the fire with a stick, embers glowing brighter. “His aura was green once, vibrant and steady, like a forest untouched by time. But when he bonded with Zeindarrys… it shifted. Changed. It became purple, deep, radiant, like twilight given form. It wasn’t just his strength that grew, but his very soul reshaped. To see him and Zeindarrys together was like watching the sky meet the sea. Different, yet one. Separate, but bound.”
The camp fell silent for a long moment. Even Tara, who had been sneaking glances at Neko as he wiped his hands and sat back down, couldn’t tear her eyes from Vivi as he spoke.
The fire crackled, shadows dancing across their faces as Vivi’s words hung heavy in the night air. Neko sat back on his heels, his knife still resting loosely in his hand. His chest rose and fell slowly, as if he were holding his breath. Almost without thinking, his fingers brushed against his sternum, over the steady thrum of his aura.
A purple-orange glow stirred faintly there, Amira’s presence pressing warmly against his own, and he swallowed, caught between awe and a strange kinship with the story.
“I…” Neko’s voice came out quieter than he intended, but it was enough to draw the others’ eyes to him. He hesitated, meeting Vivi’s gaze before looking skyward, as though the stars might steady his thoughts.
“My aura was purple. The same… the same colour you said Braiden’s became after he bonded with Zeindarrys.” His fingers flexed unconsciously against his knee, a restless energy he couldn’t quite contain. “But when Amira and I bonded, it shifted, orange mixing in. You told me once that some auras could be passed down through blood, through family lines.”
He finally lowered his eyes back to the fire, its glow catching the sharp line of his jaw as his words grew heavier, almost reluctant. “Does that mean… I could be related to Braiden?”
Vivi and Gabija exchanged a sharp, almost imperceptible glance, their brows rising in surprise. Tara’s eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she quickly looked away, while Elvina smirked knowingly at her. Loki, still perched lazily on Elqiana’s head, squawked loudly and ruffled his feathers, as if reacting to the sudden tension in the air.
Vivi’s gaze softened, locking onto Neko’s with a mix of awe and hesitation. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly, almost reverently. “I don’t know.”
Gabija’s hands paused over the chopping of the meat, her eyes fixed on Neko as if trying to read some hidden truth in him. Tara’s fingers tightened slightly around the knife she’d been using on vegetables, though she didn’t look away from him. Elvina’s smirk softened, her knowing expression lingering on Tara just long enough to make her friend fidget. Loki squawked again, tossing his head and ruffling his feathers, restless under the weight of the moment.
Neko blinked slowly, taking in the reactions around him, the firelight dancing across faces filled with surprise, curiosity, and something else, expectation. He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat, and muttered, almost to himself, “So… I’m still a… mystery.”
The silence stretched a moment longer, broken only by the distant crackle of the fire and the low rumble of Amira settling at the edge of the camp. Even the wolves, Santaya and Kristolia, seemed to sense the gravity of the moment, their ears twitching and heads tilting as they watched Neko with quiet attentiveness.
Neko stood slowly, his movements deliberate, almost meditative. He walked over to his mare and carefully drew Tondro from its scabbard, the purple blade catching the flickering firelight. Without a word, he moved a short distance away from the camp and assumed the falcon’s guard stance, the rhythm of his breath matching the hum of Amira in his mind, silent, comforting, unwavering.
Amira watched him in quiet vigilance, her presence steady. Around the fire, the others exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of whether to speak. Santaya and Kristolia stayed curled close to the warmth, content to let him have his space.
Neko began moving through his sword stances, each motion precise, controlled, and silently disciplined. The hours passed with only the whisper of blade against air and the occasional soft hum from Amira breaking the quiet.
When the stew was finally ready, Tara stepped forward with a bowl in her hands. Her heart raced a little faster than she expected. She approached Neko, feeling the quiet weight of the moment, and set the bowl gently before him.
“Thank you,” he muttered softly, his voice low, almost lost in the crackle of the fire.
Tara sat down beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him but careful not to disturb his space. She watched him take a bite, the way his jaw moved as he chewed thoughtfully, the way his chest rose subtly in the firelight.
Neko’s eyes flicked up for just a moment, catching hers. Tara’s gaze faltered, and she quickly looked away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. She felt Elvina’s knowing smirk from across the camp, but she ignored it, focusing instead on Neko.
The quiet stretched between them, comfortable yet charged. Tara’s fingers idly traced the rim of her bowl, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he even noticed her sitting there. He did notice, she felt the warmth of his presence, and noticed how he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes
Neko returned to his stew, but the tension lingered, unspoken yet undeniable. They ate together in silence, each bite measured, each breath heavy with thoughts; neither of them dared voice.
After they finished eating, Neko silently held out his hand for Tara’s bowl and spoon. She hesitated just a moment before placing them in his palms, their fingers brushing briefly, a spark of warmth that lingered longer than either expected. Without a word, he walked toward a nearby stream, the soft clink of the bowls and spoon muted against the night.
At the water’s edge, he set the utensils down and began rinsing them, the ripples catching the moonlight. Then, almost instinctively, he slipped off his tunic. The cool night air kissed his bare skin, causing a small shiver to run through him as he splashed water over his arms and shoulders, washing away the grime of the day.
Tara’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected this. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a mixture of awe and something deeper she wasn’t ready to name. She found herself frozen for a heartbeat, watching the play of moonlight over his strong frame, the steady rhythm of his movements in the water.
Even Amira seemed to sense the shift, her hum calm but watchful, weaving around Neko like a gentle tether. Tara’s hands curled tightly in her lap, and she quickly looked away, cheeks burning, trying to rein in the sudden rush of feeling that threatened to betray her composure.
Neko paused mid-splash, sensing a subtle shift in the air. His sharp eyes caught the quick movement of Tara’s gaze, the faint flush creeping up her cheeks, and the way her hands tightened in her lap. He didn’t speak, didn’t even turn fully toward her, but a quiet awareness settled in him, a recognition of the fragile, fluttering tension between them. His chest tightened slightly, and for a moment he lingered, allowing the unspoken connection to hang in the cool night air.
From the edge of the camp, Gabija stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, her voice soft but carrying a gentle authority. “It’s time for rest,” she said, offering a faint, apologetic smile. “Everyone’s got a long day ahead.”
The spell of the moment broke subtly at her words. Neko gave a small nod, a silent acknowledgement to Tara, who quickly looked down, shuffling her feet, cheeks still warm. He returned to the stream to finish rinsing the bowls.
Neko returned to the camp, the night air still cool against his skin as he pulled his tunic back on. He carefully set the bowls and spoons on a nearby log, then lowered himself onto his thin camping mattress. Less than a foot away, Tara had already laid down, her breath quiet but steady, the faint warmth of her presence brushing against him.
Around them, the rest of the group slowly drifted into sleep, the crackling fire softening to gentle embers. Neko and Tara remained awake, lying in the hush of the night, their eyes locked. Cheeks flushed, lips bitten nervously, the unspoken longing between them stretched taut.
Finally, Neko reached out, his hand hovering for only a heartbeat before brushing against hers. Tara didn’t hesitate; her fingers entwined with his, warm and steady. The contact sparked a quiet reassurance, a shared understanding of what neither had yet said aloud.
Side by side, their hands clasped, they let the night cradle them. Slowly, sleep claimed them both, their bodies close, hearts echoing in silent harmony.
Morning crept softly into the camp, a pale gold light spilling over the edges of the forest canopy. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, and the air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.
Neko stirred first, eyelids fluttering open to see Tara still lying close beside him, her hair falling in a soft halo across the thin mattress. She shifted slightly, eyes meeting his for a brief, unspoken acknowledgement of the night before. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips.
The rest of the group was already beginning to wake. Vivi stretched and yawned, glancing over at Neko and Tara with only a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, careful not to pry. Gabija quietly stoked the fire back to life, a soft hum of contentment on her lips, while Elvina caught Tara’s gaze just long enough to smirk knowingly, leaving Tara’s cheeks to colour in a subtle blush.
Santaya and Kristolia padded around the camp lazily, sniffing at the embers. Amira coiled herself at the edge of the camp, her massive form practically filling the space, yet she radiated calm, almost as if sensing the bond that had deepened overnight.
Neko rose slowly, gently disentangling his hand from Tara’s. She did the same, adjusting herself without a word, their eyes meeting one last time before each went about their morning routines. There was a quiet understanding in that glance, no words needed.
Even as they moved among the others, the lingering warmth of their closeness remained, a subtle current that threaded through the camp, noticed only by those who looked closely: Elvina’s smirk, Gabija’s slight nod, and the faint knowing in Vivi’s eyes, who chose to look away and give them the space their connection deserved.
The day began as usual, yet beneath the surface, something had shifted, an unspoken tether between Neko and Tara, delicate but undeniable, quietly grounding them both in the gentle morning light.
Neko slipped the bracelet over his wrist, the beads warm against his skin, pulsing faintly with the magic Tara and Elvina had woven into it. He flexed his fingers, feeling the subtle hum of the enchantment, a quiet, reassuring presence that tethered him to her across the distance.
Neko walked alongside Tara toward Elqiana, keeping close but respectful. “Stay safe, both of you,” he said softly, his gaze lingering between Tara and the great white dragon. Elqiana’s head dipped slightly in a subtle nod.
Neko stepped closer to Tara, taking her hands in his. Their eyes locked, each reading the unspoken longing in the other. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, and let out a soft sigh. “It could be a while until we see each other again,” he murmured, voice low. “So… remember me.”
He pressed a long, tender kiss to her lips, one that carried the weight of promise and desire. Tara responded, wrapping her arms lightly around him, returning the kiss with equal intensity. When they finally parted, breathless, Tara reached into her pocket and pulled something out, pressing it into Neko’s hand.
“Elvina helped me make it for you,” she said softly.
Neko opened his hand to see a bracelet of purple and orange beads, faintly glowing as though holding a pulse of magic. “Elvina imbued it with a spell,” Tara explained. “As long as you wear it, I will know you are okay… just as you will know that I am.” She lifted her wrist to reveal a bracelet of white beads, shimmering softly in the sunlight.
A silent understanding passed between them, a tether stronger than words. Neko closed his fingers around the bracelet, squeezing it gently. “I’ll keep it safe,” he whispered, his voice almost a vow. Tara smiled faintly, the warmth of their connection lingering even as she swung herself onto Elqiana’s back.
With a final glance, the two took off into the sky, the wind carrying their shared promise across the forest as Neko watched them go, the bracelet a weight of comfort and hope in his palm.
He watched as Tara and Elqiana lifted off, Loki flapping close to her shoulder, rising higher and higher into the sky. The morning light caught the shimmer of Elqiana’s scales, turning her wings into a gleaming arc of white. Tara leaned forward slightly, her hair trailing behind her in the wind, eyes meeting Neko’s for one last lingering moment before they disappeared into the horizon.
A tight ache settled in Neko’s chest, a mixture of longing and awe. He clenched his fist, closing his eyes briefly, letting the warmth of her presence wash over him. When he opened them, the clearing felt emptier, quieter, but the bracelet reminded him that even across miles, their bond remained unbroken.
Gabija cleared her throat gently, bringing him back to the moment. “We should move. Caa Alora won’t wait for us.”
Neko nodded. Santaya and Kristolia stirred, stretching beside him for a moment before rising as the group began their journey. Vivi adjusted his pack, his usual calm composure in place, while Elvina smirked knowingly at the subtle shift in Neko’s demeanour, the glow of the morning sun glinting off her hair.
The group set off through the forest, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds accompanying their march. Neko’s eyes occasionally flicked skyward, scanning for any sign of Tara and Elqiana, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the bracelet caught the light. Though the path ahead was long, he felt anchored, carrying a piece of her with him every step of the way toward Caa Alora.
Gabija took the lead, her steps sure and light as she guided her horse by the reins. The others followed in single file, their mounts’ hooves muffled by the thick carpet of moss and fallen leaves. High above, Amira circled through the dappled light, her shadow sweeping across the treetops, though the canopy was too dense for her to glimpse Neko below. Instead, her voice brushed against his mind, warm and steady.
'Are you well, little one?' she asked, her tone threaded with concern.
Neko’s lips curved into a small smile, though his heart was heavy. 'I’m fine, Amira. I just… hope it isn’t too long before I see her again,' he replied softly, his thoughts flickering with the image of Tara’s departing silhouette.
Ahead, Gabija glanced back over her shoulder, her sharp eyes catching his. “Neko,” she said, her voice low but carrying easily in the stillness of the forest. “The guardian will want to see you.”
Neko blinked, confusion clouding his expression. “The… guardian?”
Gabija slowed her steps just enough for him to draw closer. “The forest guardian,” she explained. “She is a wood sprite, once an elf, long ago. When death came for her, she asked to be bound to the forest instead. To breathe with it. To become it. Now she stands watch over all who pass. She sees into the minds of visitors, weighs their intent, and only those she deems pure may set foot in Caa Alora.”
Her words sank into the hush of the forest, and even the birds seemed to still as if in reverence. Neko frowned slightly, his hand brushing the beads of Tara’s bracelet as he thought. The idea of someone peering into his very heart left him unsettled, but beneath the unease, there was also a spark of wonder.
They reached a small clearing in the heart of the dense woods. Sunlight dappled the mossy ground, but the air felt heavier here, charged with an unseen presence. A massive tree stood at the centre, an Elven rune intricately engraved into its bark, faintly glowing with a pale light.
Elvina stepped forward, taking the reins of Neko’s horse. Gabija gave him a gentle push, guiding him toward the rune. Neko’s heart thudded as he walked into the clearing, and almost instantly, he felt it, a force pressing against his mind, seeking entry.
He froze. Fear clenched him tight, and he resisted, refusing to open himself to the connection. His aura flared, purple and orange twisting together, bright and unrestrained.
“Relax, Neko! Relax! Allow it to happen!” Vivi’s voice rang out, concern threading every word.
Neko clenched his jaw and rubbed his fingers over the bracelet Tara had given him. Slowly, deliberately, he exhaled and let the tension ease, opening his mind just a fraction.
A soft, melodic, jingling voice flowed into his thoughts, delicate yet impossible to ignore.
'Hmmm… your mental guards are strong. Surprising. Your aura… purple-orange… to counteract the orange-purple of the flying dragon, I see. How interesting…'
Neko stiffened.
'You are… half high-born elf, and half royal human…'
His gaze snapped to the rune on the tree, searching for any clue. 'Half royal human? What do you mean?' he asked silently, but the voice offered no answer.
Instead, it introduced itself with an elegant, resonant clarity. 'My name is Mina. For so long I have been guardian of Caa Alora, and none have troubled these woods. None since he, who I shall not name, sundered this forest with his foul presence. Yet I see you, of true heart and soul, No-name. I allow thee through.'
Before him, the trees shivered and shifted. Slowly, almost reverently, they parted like a living gateway, revealing a path bathed in light, beckoning him, and the group, into the hidden Elvish capital of Caa Alora.
Neko stepped cautiously through the parted trees, his eyes widening with each step. The air here shimmered, alive with a quiet hum that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own heartbeat. Towering trees, their trunks woven and molded into natural spires, stretched skyward, their branches entwining to form streets and plazas. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden streams, casting dancing patterns across the pathways.
He could feel it, the subtle lingering presence of Mina in the back of his mind, a gentle awareness like a soft brush of wind, guiding him, approving him. Neko swallowed hard, his chest tightening with a mixture of awe and reverence. Everything around him felt impossibly alive, as though the forest itself had been coaxed into form by song and will.
Amira suddenly burst into view, slipping through a massive opening in the canopy above, her enormous wings casting a shadow over the forest-carved streets. She landed gracefully on the pathway in front of the group, the ground vibrating softly under her weight.
The elves bustling about the capital froze mid-step, eyes widening in shock and amazement at the sight of the orange-purple dragon. Whispers erupted through the crowd, faces lifting skyward as Amira’s scales caught the sunlight, gleaming like molten gems.
Neko could barely tear his gaze away, feeling a swell of pride and wonder. His bond with Amira hummed in his mind, the dragon’s awareness brushing against his own thoughts. Mina’s presence lingered like a soft murmur, and Neko instinctively felt the two forces, the city and the guardian, welcoming him.
He stepped forward, heart pounding, every detail of Caa Alora etching itself into his memory: the interwoven walkways of living wood, lanterns suspended in midair that glowed with their own inner light, and the gentle hum of the city singing itself awake around them. Even in the awe of the elves’ stunned reactions, Neko felt a sense of belonging, like a thread long lost had finally been found.
The group hesitated for a heartbeat, still stunned by the sheer presence of Amira, before the first elves cautiously approached. Their movements were fluid, precise, almost as if they were part of the living city itself. Eyes wide with awe and curiosity, they whispered among themselves, exchanging glances that ranged from reverence to cautious admiration.
Neko felt his pulse quicken, the lingering echo of Mina’s presence brushing against his mind like a soft wind. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out silently, trying to ask her the question that had been gnawing at him. “Half royal human… what do you mean?” His thoughts stretched toward her, seeking understanding.
There was no answer. Only a faint hum of awareness remained, like a distant echo, watching but not speaking.
He opened his eyes, the vibrant city before him still overwhelming, and took a deep, steadying breath. Remembering Gabija’s lessons, he bowed gracefully, lowering his head and moving his hand in front of him in the traditional Elvish greeting. The elves paused, their expressions softening in recognition of his respect.
One stepped forward, an elder with silver-threaded hair that glimmered like morning dew, her eyes bright and discerning. “You honour us with your presence,” she said, voice melodic and gentle, yet carrying the weight of centuries.
Neko straightened slightly, keeping his hands folded, and allowed his gaze to sweep across the city. He felt the connection to Mina still, subtle but undeniable, like a quiet tether guiding him, reassuring him that he was being watched over, even if her answers remained elusive.
Amira shifted slightly behind him, sensing his unease, and let out a low, calming hum that vibrated through Neko’s chest. The dragon’s presence grounded him, giving him the courage to meet the elves’ stares without flinching.
The rest of the group, sensing the delicate formality of the moment, remained still. Gabija’s eyes met his briefly, a small encouraging nod, while Vivi’s expression reflected quiet respect. Neko’s gaze finally returned to the elder, and he inclined his head again, a silent promise that he would honour their city and its guardians.
The air seemed to hold its breath, filled with anticipation, as the elves slowly relaxed, their curiosity giving way to cautious welcome.
The murmurs of the elves softened into a ripple of cautious friendliness as the initial shock of Amira’s presence faded. Their movements became more purposeful yet graceful, stepping forward with measured curiosity rather than fear. Some extended hesitant bows toward Neko, while others whispered to one another, eyes flicking between the dragon and her rider, marveling at the unusual aura radiating from them both.
Gabija moved smoothly among them, her presence calming the crowd, guiding the group deeper into the city. Towering trees intertwined with living structures, their branches and roots forming bridges, pathways, and homes, the leaves shimmering faintly as if humming in response to the city’s heartbeat. Neko’s eyes darted around, taking in every intricate detail, awe etched across his face, yet he couldn’t shake the lingering thread of Mina’s presence brushing against his mind, a quiet, watchful awareness that both unnerved and comforted him.
Suddenly, a scholarly-looking elf hurried forward, his robes brushing the marble-like intertwined routes as he stopped abruptly in front of Gabija. “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing deeply. The words fell like a stone in the clearing, and instantly every elf around them froze. Recognition spread like wildfire, and all eyes turned toward Gabija. One by one, the elves lowered themselves in deep, reverent bows.
Gabija raised her arms gently, her voice carrying authority and warmth. “Please, my friends,” she said, her tone commanding yet kind, “it is not I who is important right now, but our guests before us.”
The scholarly elf straightened, glancing at her with a mixture of awe and relief. “Martheel,” Gabija said, addressing him directly, “what is there to report?”
Martheel smiled softly, bowing his head. “Guests?” he asked, his brow furrowing in mild confusion.
Gabija reached out and gently grabbed his shoulders, turning him around. His eyes widened in realization as he took in Neko and Amira standing there. His confusion melted into understanding. “Ah,” Martheel said, bowing once more, voice laced with apology, “I beg your pardon for my rudeness.” He turned back to Gabija, composed once again. “We’ve dug through the Great Library and found every book and scroll we could locate regarding ancestry. They are all stacked and organized in the Red Oak Room, as you requested.”
Neko, still absorbing the grandeur of the city, couldn’t help but glance down at Amira, whose scales shimmered faintly in the filtered sunlight streaming through the living canopy. Her gentle hum resonated in his mind, grounding him amidst the swirl of elvish reverence. He swallowed, feeling both the weight of the moment and the thrill of discovery, the city, the dragon, and the promise of answers all intertwined before him.
Gabija nodded approvingly. “Excellent work, Martheel. Come, friends,” she said, gesturing to Neko and the group. “Let us see these records for ourselves. There is much to uncover, and little time to waste.”
With careful steps, the party began moving deeper into Caa Alora, Amira gliding just above the canopy, her wings casting dappled shadows on the living streets, while Neko’s eyes remained wide with awe…
Chapter 32: Departing
Nekonata raced ahead on his mare, Santaya and Kristolia, his wolves, bounding alongside him. Above, Amira circled, her wingspan having grown impressively since their last flight. Loki the raven perched lazily on Elqiana’s head as she soared higher, Tarasque strapped firmly to her back, her red hair whipping wildly in the wind. Vivi rode close behind on his black horse, Elvina, with Gabija and the others following on their own mounts, leaving the small village far behind.
Hours later, they slowed and gathered to make camp for the night. Neko stretched, his wolves yawning loudly beside him. Amira coiled herself gracefully on the edge of the camp near the massive opal-white dragon, her excitement almost tangible. Gabija glanced at Amira and then back at Neko.
"A saddle is being made in Caa Alora for you and Amira," she said. "She’s big enough to fly on now."
Amira shivered with excitement, the bond between them amplifying her joy so strongly that Neko could feel it in his chest. Vivi knelt to start the fire while Elvina and Tarasque slipped quietly into the forest to hunt, hoping for rabbits, or perhaps a deer if fortune favoured them.
The camp settled into the quiet rhythm of preparation, a fleeting calm before the next leg of their journey.
Neko paused mid-stretch, his eyes flicking over the darkening treeline. A shiver ran down his spine, the hairs on his arms and neck rising as if invisible eyes were upon them. For a heartbeat, the sensation prickled at him, faintly and distantly. Then he shook his head, brushing it off.
Santaya and Kristolia looked up at him, their ears twitching, sensing his unease. Vivi glanced over, concern etched on his face. "Everything okay?" he asked.
Neko simply nodded, offering a small, calm smile, though the unease lingered like a shadow at the edge of his mind.
Tara and Elvina emerged from the forest shadows, dragging a deer between them, with two rabbits slung neatly over Elvina’s back. Neko rose at once, striding forward to take the deer. He hefted it over his shoulders with ease and carried it back toward the firelight. The wolves padded after him, tails swishing.
Elvina tossed a rabbit to each wolf, and both Santaya and Kristolia caught them mid-air with graceful snaps of their jaws. Tara lingered, her gaze locked on Neko as he knelt in the firelight, muscles taut as his knife moved cleanly across the deer’s hide. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. She only watched, drinking in every small motion.
Elvina caught the look, and a knowing smirk curved her mouth. She nudged Tara with her elbow, subtle but pointed, and Tara flushed, hastily busying herself with the vegetables.
“Caa Alora…” Neko said after a quiet moment, glancing up from his work. “What does it look like? And how does a city like that remain hidden from wandering eyes?”
Vivi leaned back against a log, tossing another branch into the flames. “It’s veiled,” he said, matter-of-fact. “The elves who founded it wove their magic into the stones, the trees, even the streams around it. Unless you’re guided to the gates, you’ll walk right past and never know it’s there.”
Gabija picked up smoothly where Vivi left off, her voice carrying the warmth of memory. “But once inside…” She smiled faintly. “You’ll see towering trees older than empires, their trunks shaped into halls and homes by song, their boughs woven into archways that touch the sky. The streets are not carved from stone but formed of great roots, braided and intertwined, humming with the life of the forest itself. Lanterns glow like blossoms, their light coaxed forth by careful whispers in the ancient tongue. Caa Alora was not built as men build cities, it was sung into being. Every wall, every path, every dwelling still breathes, still grows, in harmony with those who dwell there.”
Neko stilled, his knife hovering over the deer hide. The image painted in her words caught at something deep inside him, an ache he couldn’t name, as if he were glimpsing a place he should have always known. His breath slipped out in a quiet sound of awe.
When he glanced up, Tara was staring at him, her eyes soft and intent, almost vulnerable in the firelight. For a heartbeat he forgot to breathe. Heat rushed to his face and he bit his lip, quickly shaking his head as though trying to banish the thought.
Elvina caught the look, and a sly smirk ghosted across her lips before she turned back to the vegetables, saying nothing.
Neko cleared his throat and asked, perhaps too quickly, “So… where did Braiden and Zeindarrys stay in Caa Alora? Surely there must be a place for dragons, somewhere they can rest comfortably?”
Vivi, oblivious to the tension that had just passed, answered easily. “When Braiden and Zeindarrys bonded, the elves of that time sang to the great tree at the heart of Caa Alora. They shaped from it a vast airy, wide and open enough to cradle even the greatest of dragons. Beside it, offset in the roots, they wove a home for Braiden himself. It is said to be one of the most beautiful places in the city, now considered sacred, a place none enter lightly.”
Gabija’s and Vivi’s words lingered in the air, leaving the fire crackling softly as the only sound. Neko sat frozen, caught between her vivid description of Caa Alora and the way Tara’s gaze still rested on him. He dared a quick glance back at her, his cheeks warming, only for Elvina’s smirk to catch the moment and twist the heat into something sharper. Tara’s face flushed, and she looked away hastily, busying her hands with arranging vegetables that didn’t really need arranging.
Neko cleared his throat, trying to shake off the weight of it all. “Have either of you…” he glanced between Gabija, Vivi, and Elvina, “…ever been inside the airy? Or Braiden’s quarters?”
Elvina shook her head softly. Gabija’s lips curved faintly but she too said no.
It was Vivi who nodded, his expression shadowed by memory. “Yes. As a young elf, I was tasked with bringing fresh food to Braiden, and meat for Zeindarrys. I would also transcribe certain things for him, drawings, notes, even the earliest designs of his dragon saddles. He was brilliant, but his handwriting was a nightmare,” Vivi chuckled faintly, though his eyes carried the weight of reverence.
Neko tilted his head, curiosity softening his features. “What was it like… meeting Zeindarrys for the first time?”
Vivi’s smile grew slowly, stretching wider with each heartbeat as the memories poured back. “It was… terrifying,” he admitted, voice hushed with reverence, “and the most awe-inspiring moment of my life. Standing there, watching him shift his wings, feeling the ground tremble just from his weight—your heart doesn’t know whether to stop or race out of your chest. You feel so small, so insignificant, but at the same time… honoured to even be breathing the same air.”
He glanced at Neko, his eyes bright now. “When you see the airy for yourself, and you will, you’ll understand. The size alone is staggering. Amira, right now, compared to Zeindarrys…” He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. “She’d be like a large hound at someone’s heel.”
Elqiana stretched and gave a wide-winged wriggle before coiling back in comfortably beside Amira.
“Yes,” Vivi added with a chuckle, looking to her, “Zeindarrys was three times your size, Elqiana.”
Tara’s eyes widened as she looked at him, then back at her opal-white dragon, jaw slack. “That’s… freaking huge!” she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief.
The campfire cracked, filling the pause with warmth as everyone fell quiet, each of them picturing the scale of the dragon Vivi spoke of.
Neko wiped the blade clean against the grass, setting the skinned hide aside. With quiet efficiency, he handed the carcass over, and Gabija took over, slicing neat cuts of meat and tossing them into the pot with the waiting vegetables. The smell of earth and raw venison mingled with the first hint of simmering stew as Vivi’s voice carried over the firelight.
“Braiden himself…” Vivi’s smile softened, his gaze distant as though he could still see the man standing before him. “He was tall, broad of shoulder, and his eyes,” Vivi gestured faintly, as if words fell short, “they were the clearest blue I’ve ever seen. You could almost mistake them for cold, until he smiled. Then you realised he carried the weight of centuries of knowledge, but still had warmth enough to share with anyone who approached.”
He stirred the fire with a stick, embers glowing brighter. “His aura was green once, vibrant and steady, like a forest untouched by time. But when he bonded with Zeindarrys… it shifted. Changed. It became purple, deep, radiant, like twilight given form. It wasn’t just his strength that grew, but his very soul reshaped. To see him and Zeindarrys together was like watching the sky meet the sea. Different, yet one. Separate, but bound.”
The camp fell silent for a long moment. Even Tara, who had been sneaking glances at Neko as he wiped his hands and sat back down, couldn’t tear her eyes from Vivi as he spoke.
The fire crackled, shadows dancing across their faces as Vivi’s words hung heavy in the night air. Neko sat back on his heels, his knife still resting loosely in his hand. His chest rose and fell slowly, as if he were holding his breath. Almost without thinking, his fingers brushed against his sternum, over the steady thrum of his aura.
A purple-orange glow stirred faintly there, Amira’s presence pressing warmly against his own, and he swallowed, caught between awe and a strange kinship with the story.
“I…” Neko’s voice came out quieter than he intended, but it was enough to draw the others’ eyes to him. He hesitated, meeting Vivi’s gaze before looking skyward, as though the stars might steady his thoughts.
“My aura was purple. The same… the same colour you said Braiden’s became after he bonded with Zeindarrys.” His fingers flexed unconsciously against his knee, a restless energy he couldn’t quite contain. “But when Amira and I bonded, it shifted, orange mixing in. You told me once that some auras could be passed down through blood, through family lines.”
He finally lowered his eyes back to the fire, its glow catching the sharp line of his jaw as his words grew heavier, almost reluctant. “Does that mean… I could be related to Braiden?”
Vivi and Gabija exchanged a sharp, almost imperceptible glance, their brows rising in surprise. Tara’s eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she quickly looked away, while Elvina smirked knowingly at her. Loki, still perched lazily on Elqiana’s head, squawked loudly and ruffled his feathers, as if reacting to the sudden tension in the air.
Vivi’s gaze softened, locking onto Neko’s with a mix of awe and hesitation. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly, almost reverently. “I don’t know.”
Gabija’s hands paused over the chopping of the meat, her eyes fixed on Neko as if trying to read some hidden truth in him. Tara’s fingers tightened slightly around the knife she’d been using on vegetables, though she didn’t look away from him. Elvina’s smirk softened, her knowing expression lingering on Tara just long enough to make her friend fidget. Loki squawked again, tossing his head and ruffling his feathers, restless under the weight of the moment.
Neko blinked slowly, taking in the reactions around him, the firelight dancing across faces filled with surprise, curiosity, and something else, expectation. He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat, and muttered, almost to himself, “So… I’m still a… mystery.”
The silence stretched a moment longer, broken only by the distant crackle of the fire and the low rumble of Amira settling at the edge of the camp. Even the wolves, Santaya and Kristolia, seemed to sense the gravity of the moment, their ears twitching and heads tilting as they watched Neko with quiet attentiveness.
Neko stood slowly, his movements deliberate, almost meditative. He walked over to his mare and carefully drew Tondro from its scabbard, the purple blade catching the flickering firelight. Without a word, he moved a short distance away from the camp and assumed the falcon’s guard stance, the rhythm of his breath matching the hum of Amira in his mind, silent, comforting, unwavering.
Amira watched him in quiet vigilance, her presence steady. Around the fire, the others exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of whether to speak. Santaya and Kristolia stayed curled close to the warmth, content to let him have his space.
Neko began moving through his sword stances, each motion precise, controlled, and silently disciplined. The hours passed with only the whisper of blade against air and the occasional soft hum from Amira breaking the quiet.
When the stew was finally ready, Tara stepped forward with a bowl in her hands. Her heart raced a little faster than she expected. She approached Neko, feeling the quiet weight of the moment, and set the bowl gently before him.
“Thank you,” he muttered softly, his voice low, almost lost in the crackle of the fire.
Tara sat down beside him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him but careful not to disturb his space. She watched him take a bite, the way his jaw moved as he chewed thoughtfully, the way his chest rose subtly in the firelight.
Neko’s eyes flicked up for just a moment, catching hers. Tara’s gaze faltered, and she quickly looked away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. She felt Elvina’s knowing smirk from across the camp, but she ignored it, focusing instead on Neko.
The quiet stretched between them, comfortable yet charged. Tara’s fingers idly traced the rim of her bowl, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if he even noticed her sitting there. He did notice, she felt the warmth of his presence, and noticed how he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes
Neko returned to his stew, but the tension lingered, unspoken yet undeniable. They ate together in silence, each bite measured, each breath heavy with thoughts; neither of them dared voice.
After they finished eating, Neko silently held out his hand for Tara’s bowl and spoon. She hesitated just a moment before placing them in his palms, their fingers brushing briefly, a spark of warmth that lingered longer than either expected. Without a word, he walked toward a nearby stream, the soft clink of the bowls and spoon muted against the night.
At the water’s edge, he set the utensils down and began rinsing them, the ripples catching the moonlight. Then, almost instinctively, he slipped off his tunic. The cool night air kissed his bare skin, causing a small shiver to run through him as he splashed water over his arms and shoulders, washing away the grime of the day.
Tara’s breath caught. She hadn’t expected this. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a mixture of awe and something deeper she wasn’t ready to name. She found herself frozen for a heartbeat, watching the play of moonlight over his strong frame, the steady rhythm of his movements in the water.
Even Amira seemed to sense the shift, her hum calm but watchful, weaving around Neko like a gentle tether. Tara’s hands curled tightly in her lap, and she quickly looked away, cheeks burning, trying to rein in the sudden rush of feeling that threatened to betray her composure.
Neko paused mid-splash, sensing a subtle shift in the air. His sharp eyes caught the quick movement of Tara’s gaze, the faint flush creeping up her cheeks, and the way her hands tightened in her lap. He didn’t speak, didn’t even turn fully toward her, but a quiet awareness settled in him, a recognition of the fragile, fluttering tension between them. His chest tightened slightly, and for a moment he lingered, allowing the unspoken connection to hang in the cool night air.
From the edge of the camp, Gabija stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, her voice soft but carrying a gentle authority. “It’s time for rest,” she said, offering a faint, apologetic smile. “Everyone’s got a long day ahead.”
The spell of the moment broke subtly at her words. Neko gave a small nod, a silent acknowledgement to Tara, who quickly looked down, shuffling her feet, cheeks still warm. He returned to the stream to finish rinsing the bowls.
Neko returned to the camp, the night air still cool against his skin as he pulled his tunic back on. He carefully set the bowls and spoons on a nearby log, then lowered himself onto his thin camping mattress. Less than a foot away, Tara had already laid down, her breath quiet but steady, the faint warmth of her presence brushing against him.
Around them, the rest of the group slowly drifted into sleep, the crackling fire softening to gentle embers. Neko and Tara remained awake, lying in the hush of the night, their eyes locked. Cheeks flushed, lips bitten nervously, the unspoken longing between them stretched taut.
Finally, Neko reached out, his hand hovering for only a heartbeat before brushing against hers. Tara didn’t hesitate; her fingers entwined with his, warm and steady. The contact sparked a quiet reassurance, a shared understanding of what neither had yet said aloud.
Side by side, their hands clasped, they let the night cradle them. Slowly, sleep claimed them both, their bodies close, hearts echoing in silent harmony.
Morning crept softly into the camp, a pale gold light spilling over the edges of the forest canopy. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, and the air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.
Neko stirred first, eyelids fluttering open to see Tara still lying close beside him, her hair falling in a soft halo across the thin mattress. She shifted slightly, eyes meeting his for a brief, unspoken acknowledgement of the night before. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at her lips.
The rest of the group was already beginning to wake. Vivi stretched and yawned, glancing over at Neko and Tara with only a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, careful not to pry. Gabija quietly stoked the fire back to life, a soft hum of contentment on her lips, while Elvina caught Tara’s gaze just long enough to smirk knowingly, leaving Tara’s cheeks to colour in a subtle blush.
Santaya and Kristolia padded around the camp lazily, sniffing at the embers. Amira coiled herself at the edge of the camp, her massive form practically filling the space, yet she radiated calm, almost as if sensing the bond that had deepened overnight.
Neko rose slowly, gently disentangling his hand from Tara’s. She did the same, adjusting herself without a word, their eyes meeting one last time before each went about their morning routines. There was a quiet understanding in that glance, no words needed.
Even as they moved among the others, the lingering warmth of their closeness remained, a subtle current that threaded through the camp, noticed only by those who looked closely: Elvina’s smirk, Gabija’s slight nod, and the faint knowing in Vivi’s eyes, who chose to look away and give them the space their connection deserved.
The day began as usual, yet beneath the surface, something had shifted, an unspoken tether between Neko and Tara, delicate but undeniable, quietly grounding them both in the gentle morning light.
Neko slipped the bracelet over his wrist, the beads warm against his skin, pulsing faintly with the magic Tara and Elvina had woven into it. He flexed his fingers, feeling the subtle hum of the enchantment, a quiet, reassuring presence that tethered him to her across the distance.
Neko walked alongside Tara toward Elqiana, keeping close but respectful. “Stay safe, both of you,” he said softly, his gaze lingering between Tara and the great white dragon. Elqiana’s head dipped slightly in a subtle nod.
Neko stepped closer to Tara, taking her hands in his. Their eyes locked, each reading the unspoken longing in the other. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, and let out a soft sigh. “It could be a while until we see each other again,” he murmured, voice low. “So… remember me.”
He pressed a long, tender kiss to her lips, one that carried the weight of promise and desire. Tara responded, wrapping her arms lightly around him, returning the kiss with equal intensity. When they finally parted, breathless, Tara reached into her pocket and pulled something out, pressing it into Neko’s hand.
“Elvina helped me make it for you,” she said softly.
Neko opened his hand to see a bracelet of purple and orange beads, faintly glowing as though holding a pulse of magic. “Elvina imbued it with a spell,” Tara explained. “As long as you wear it, I will know you are okay… just as you will know that I am.” She lifted her wrist to reveal a bracelet of white beads, shimmering softly in the sunlight.
A silent understanding passed between them, a tether stronger than words. Neko closed his fingers around the bracelet, squeezing it gently. “I’ll keep it safe,” he whispered, his voice almost a vow. Tara smiled faintly, the warmth of their connection lingering even as she swung herself onto Elqiana’s back.
With a final glance, the two took off into the sky, the wind carrying their shared promise across the forest as Neko watched them go, the bracelet a weight of comfort and hope in his palm.
He watched as Tara and Elqiana lifted off, Loki flapping close to her shoulder, rising higher and higher into the sky. The morning light caught the shimmer of Elqiana’s scales, turning her wings into a gleaming arc of white. Tara leaned forward slightly, her hair trailing behind her in the wind, eyes meeting Neko’s for one last lingering moment before they disappeared into the horizon.
A tight ache settled in Neko’s chest, a mixture of longing and awe. He clenched his fist, closing his eyes briefly, letting the warmth of her presence wash over him. When he opened them, the clearing felt emptier, quieter, but the bracelet reminded him that even across miles, their bond remained unbroken.
Gabija cleared her throat gently, bringing him back to the moment. “We should move. Caa Alora won’t wait for us.”
Neko nodded. Santaya and Kristolia stirred, stretching beside him for a moment before rising as the group began their journey. Vivi adjusted his pack, his usual calm composure in place, while Elvina smirked knowingly at the subtle shift in Neko’s demeanour, the glow of the morning sun glinting off her hair.
The group set off through the forest, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds accompanying their march. Neko’s eyes occasionally flicked skyward, scanning for any sign of Tara and Elqiana, a faint smile tugging at his lips as the bracelet caught the light. Though the path ahead was long, he felt anchored, carrying a piece of her with him every step of the way toward Caa Alora.
Gabija took the lead, her steps sure and light as she guided her horse by the reins. The others followed in single file, their mounts’ hooves muffled by the thick carpet of moss and fallen leaves. High above, Amira circled through the dappled light, her shadow sweeping across the treetops, though the canopy was too dense for her to glimpse Neko below. Instead, her voice brushed against his mind, warm and steady.
'Are you well, little one?' she asked, her tone threaded with concern.
Neko’s lips curved into a small smile, though his heart was heavy. 'I’m fine, Amira. I just… hope it isn’t too long before I see her again,' he replied softly, his thoughts flickering with the image of Tara’s departing silhouette.
Ahead, Gabija glanced back over her shoulder, her sharp eyes catching his. “Neko,” she said, her voice low but carrying easily in the stillness of the forest. “The guardian will want to see you.”
Neko blinked, confusion clouding his expression. “The… guardian?”
Gabija slowed her steps just enough for him to draw closer. “The forest guardian,” she explained. “She is a wood sprite, once an elf, long ago. When death came for her, she asked to be bound to the forest instead. To breathe with it. To become it. Now she stands watch over all who pass. She sees into the minds of visitors, weighs their intent, and only those she deems pure may set foot in Caa Alora.”
Her words sank into the hush of the forest, and even the birds seemed to still as if in reverence. Neko frowned slightly, his hand brushing the beads of Tara’s bracelet as he thought. The idea of someone peering into his very heart left him unsettled, but beneath the unease, there was also a spark of wonder.
They reached a small clearing in the heart of the dense woods. Sunlight dappled the mossy ground, but the air felt heavier here, charged with an unseen presence. A massive tree stood at the centre, an Elven rune intricately engraved into its bark, faintly glowing with a pale light.
Elvina stepped forward, taking the reins of Neko’s horse. Gabija gave him a gentle push, guiding him toward the rune. Neko’s heart thudded as he walked into the clearing, and almost instantly, he felt it, a force pressing against his mind, seeking entry.
He froze. Fear clenched him tight, and he resisted, refusing to open himself to the connection. His aura flared, purple and orange twisting together, bright and unrestrained.
“Relax, Neko! Relax! Allow it to happen!” Vivi’s voice rang out, concern threading every word.
Neko clenched his jaw and rubbed his fingers over the bracelet Tara had given him. Slowly, deliberately, he exhaled and let the tension ease, opening his mind just a fraction.
A soft, melodic, jingling voice flowed into his thoughts, delicate yet impossible to ignore.
'Hmmm… your mental guards are strong. Surprising. Your aura… purple-orange… to counteract the orange-purple of the flying dragon, I see. How interesting…'
Neko stiffened.
'You are… half high-born elf, and half royal human…'
His gaze snapped to the rune on the tree, searching for any clue. 'Half royal human? What do you mean?' he asked silently, but the voice offered no answer.
Instead, it introduced itself with an elegant, resonant clarity. 'My name is Mina. For so long I have been guardian of Caa Alora, and none have troubled these woods. None since he, who I shall not name, sundered this forest with his foul presence. Yet I see you, of true heart and soul, No-name. I allow thee through.'
Before him, the trees shivered and shifted. Slowly, almost reverently, they parted like a living gateway, revealing a path bathed in light, beckoning him, and the group, into the hidden Elvish capital of Caa Alora.
Neko stepped cautiously through the parted trees, his eyes widening with each step. The air here shimmered, alive with a quiet hum that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own heartbeat. Towering trees, their trunks woven and molded into natural spires, stretched skyward, their branches entwining to form streets and plazas. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden streams, casting dancing patterns across the pathways.
He could feel it, the subtle lingering presence of Mina in the back of his mind, a gentle awareness like a soft brush of wind, guiding him, approving him. Neko swallowed hard, his chest tightening with a mixture of awe and reverence. Everything around him felt impossibly alive, as though the forest itself had been coaxed into form by song and will.
Amira suddenly burst into view, slipping through a massive opening in the canopy above, her enormous wings casting a shadow over the forest-carved streets. She landed gracefully on the pathway in front of the group, the ground vibrating softly under her weight.
The elves bustling about the capital froze mid-step, eyes widening in shock and amazement at the sight of the orange-purple dragon. Whispers erupted through the crowd, faces lifting skyward as Amira’s scales caught the sunlight, gleaming like molten gems.
Neko could barely tear his gaze away, feeling a swell of pride and wonder. His bond with Amira hummed in his mind, the dragon’s awareness brushing against his own thoughts. Mina’s presence lingered like a soft murmur, and Neko instinctively felt the two forces, the city and the guardian, welcoming him.
He stepped forward, heart pounding, every detail of Caa Alora etching itself into his memory: the interwoven walkways of living wood, lanterns suspended in midair that glowed with their own inner light, and the gentle hum of the city singing itself awake around them. Even in the awe of the elves’ stunned reactions, Neko felt a sense of belonging, like a thread long lost had finally been found.
The group hesitated for a heartbeat, still stunned by the sheer presence of Amira, before the first elves cautiously approached. Their movements were fluid, precise, almost as if they were part of the living city itself. Eyes wide with awe and curiosity, they whispered among themselves, exchanging glances that ranged from reverence to cautious admiration.
Neko felt his pulse quicken, the lingering echo of Mina’s presence brushing against his mind like a soft wind. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out silently, trying to ask her the question that had been gnawing at him. “Half royal human… what do you mean?” His thoughts stretched toward her, seeking understanding.
There was no answer. Only a faint hum of awareness remained, like a distant echo, watching but not speaking.
He opened his eyes, the vibrant city before him still overwhelming, and took a deep, steadying breath. Remembering Gabija’s lessons, he bowed gracefully, lowering his head and moving his hand in front of him in the traditional Elvish greeting. The elves paused, their expressions softening in recognition of his respect.
One stepped forward, an elder with silver-threaded hair that glimmered like morning dew, her eyes bright and discerning. “You honour us with your presence,” she said, voice melodic and gentle, yet carrying the weight of centuries.
Neko straightened slightly, keeping his hands folded, and allowed his gaze to sweep across the city. He felt the connection to Mina still, subtle but undeniable, like a quiet tether guiding him, reassuring him that he was being watched over, even if her answers remained elusive.
Amira shifted slightly behind him, sensing his unease, and let out a low, calming hum that vibrated through Neko’s chest. The dragon’s presence grounded him, giving him the courage to meet the elves’ stares without flinching.
The rest of the group, sensing the delicate formality of the moment, remained still. Gabija’s eyes met his briefly, a small encouraging nod, while Vivi’s expression reflected quiet respect. Neko’s gaze finally returned to the elder, and he inclined his head again, a silent promise that he would honour their city and its guardians.
The air seemed to hold its breath, filled with anticipation, as the elves slowly relaxed, their curiosity giving way to cautious welcome.
The murmurs of the elves softened into a ripple of cautious friendliness as the initial shock of Amira’s presence faded. Their movements became more purposeful yet graceful, stepping forward with measured curiosity rather than fear. Some extended hesitant bows toward Neko, while others whispered to one another, eyes flicking between the dragon and her rider, marveling at the unusual aura radiating from them both.
Gabija moved smoothly among them, her presence calming the crowd, guiding the group deeper into the city. Towering trees intertwined with living structures, their branches and roots forming bridges, pathways, and homes, the leaves shimmering faintly as if humming in response to the city’s heartbeat. Neko’s eyes darted around, taking in every intricate detail, awe etched across his face, yet he couldn’t shake the lingering thread of Mina’s presence brushing against his mind, a quiet, watchful awareness that both unnerved and comforted him.
Suddenly, a scholarly-looking elf hurried forward, his robes brushing the marble-like intertwined routes as he stopped abruptly in front of Gabija. “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing deeply. The words fell like a stone in the clearing, and instantly every elf around them froze. Recognition spread like wildfire, and all eyes turned toward Gabija. One by one, the elves lowered themselves in deep, reverent bows.
Gabija raised her arms gently, her voice carrying authority and warmth. “Please, my friends,” she said, her tone commanding yet kind, “it is not I who is important right now, but our guests before us.”
The scholarly elf straightened, glancing at her with a mixture of awe and relief. “Martheel,” Gabija said, addressing him directly, “what is there to report?”
Martheel smiled softly, bowing his head. “Guests?” he asked, his brow furrowing in mild confusion.
Gabija reached out and gently grabbed his shoulders, turning him around. His eyes widened in realization as he took in Neko and Amira standing there. His confusion melted into understanding. “Ah,” Martheel said, bowing once more, voice laced with apology, “I beg your pardon for my rudeness.” He turned back to Gabija, composed once again. “We’ve dug through the Great Library and found every book and scroll we could locate regarding ancestry. They are all stacked and organized in the Red Oak Room, as you requested.”
Neko, still absorbing the grandeur of the city, couldn’t help but glance down at Amira, whose scales shimmered faintly in the filtered sunlight streaming through the living canopy. Her gentle hum resonated in his mind, grounding him amidst the swirl of elvish reverence. He swallowed, feeling both the weight of the moment and the thrill of discovery, the city, the dragon, and the promise of answers all intertwined before him.
Gabija nodded approvingly. “Excellent work, Martheel. Come, friends,” she said, gesturing to Neko and the group. “Let us see these records for ourselves. There is much to uncover, and little time to waste.”
With careful steps, the party began moving deeper into Caa Alora, Amira gliding just above the canopy, her wings casting dappled shadows on the living streets, while Neko’s eyes remained wide with awe…
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