Arrival of a guest

The morning sun bathed Greenwood’s fields in a golden glow, the starbloom grove shimmering with silver petals as dew sparkled on the grass. Akira stepped out of the cottage, the familiar scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers filling his lungs, grounding him after the whirlwind of Havenbrook. His pack was lighter now, the gifts delivered, but his mind buzzed with plans for the greenhouse. He adjusted his tunic, the morning breeze cool against his skin, and headed toward the fields, eager to check on the progress. The air carried the distant hum of villagers tending the farm field, their voices mingling with the chirp of sparrows and the rustle of leaves.

The chosen field for the greenhouse lay at the village’s edge, a wide, flat expanse bordered by wildflowers and low stone walls. Akira’s heart lifted as he saw it—perfectly cleared, the soil leveled, and stakes marking the foundation where Durin’s forged metal frames would soon stand. Hana’s meticulous touch was evident in the neat rows and smooth earth, a testament to her care and attention. He smiled, thinking of her bustling efficiency. If Mom’s in charge, it’s always done right, he thought.

Villagers worked nearby, hoeing rows for the season’s crops, their faces flushed with effort. Akira approached, waving. “Looking good!” he called. “The greenhouse field’s perfect. We’ll start planting new crops next week—some different ones, maybe moonberries, tomatoes, and froststrawberries to test the structure.”

Liora, her auburn hair tied back, paused her work, leaning on her hoe. “New crops? That’s exciting!"

As he turned to leave, a spark of memory jolted him—Fenwick, the gnome trader. He’d forgotten to tell Thalion about their deal in Havenbrook. His brow furrowed, and he quickened his pace toward Thalion’s cottage, the elder’s cottage nestled among ancient oaks, its roof woven with vines. But before he reached the path, he spotted Thalion approaching, his robes dusted with soil, his silver hair catching the light, a scroll tucked under his arm.

“Thalion!” Akira called, jogging to meet him. “I forgot to tell you something yesterday. It’s important.”

Thalion’s eyes, sharp yet kind, studied him. “Forgot? That’s unlike you, Akira. What’s so urgent?”

Akira caught his breath, his voice earnest. “It’s about Fenwick, the gnome we met in Havenbrook. I meant to tell you last night, but with the sprites and gifts, it slipped my mind.”

Thalion’s brow arched, curiosity sparking. “A gnome from Glimmerfen? That’s no small matter. Tell me everything.”

Akira recounted their encounter in Havenbrook’s bustling market—the gnome’s weathered green cap, his guarded demeanor, and his desperate offer to trade glass for food. “He said Glimmerfen’s struggling,” Akira explained. “Frost killed their winter crops, and pests ruined half the spring harvest. They’re barely surviving on their rainy season yield, and summer’s looking grim. He broke his elders’ orders to seek trade.”

Thalion’s expression grew thoughtful, his fingers tapping the scroll. “This is a rare opportunity. Glass for the greenhouse would complete our plans, and helping Glimmerfen aligns with Greenwood’s values. You’ve already begun aiding them with your Earth knowledge, haven’t you?”

Akira nodded, a flush of pride warming his cheeks. “Yes, and Fenwick said that he is gonna come here to talk further about the trade. ”

Thalion smiled, his voice warm. “You’re building bridges, Akira. That’s no small feat, especially with gnomes, given their history.”

Before Akira could ask what he meant, a breathless shout interrupted them. Miren ran from the village center, her delicate frame moving swiftly, her silver hair streaming behind her. “Akira! Thalion!” she gasped, clutching her sides. “There’s… someone here!”

Akira stepped forward, concern flashing in his eyes. “Miren, breathe. Who’s here?”

She gulped air, her voice steadying. “A gnome! At the village gate! He’s asking for you, Akira.”

Akira’s heart leaped. “Fenwick,” he said, glancing at Thalion. “He’s faster than I thought.”

Thalion’s eyes gleamed. “Then we’d best meet him. Miren, find Elara and Hana, and tell them to join us at my house. Liora, too, if she’s free.”

Miren nodded, darting off, her footsteps light on the cobblestone path. Akira and Thalion hurried to the village gate, where a low stone arch marked Greenwood’s boundary, framed by blooming starblooms. There stood Fenwick, his green cap slightly askew, his lantern glowing faintly despite the daylight. His small frame was clad in a patched cloak, and his sharp eyes scanned the village warily, a sack of glass samples slung over his shoulder.

“Fenwick!” Akira called, raising a hand in welcome. “You made it to Greenwood. Welcome!”

Fenwick’s gaze softened, though his posture remained guarded. “Akira, good to see you.” He glanced at Thalion, his brow furrowing. “And you are?”

Akira gestured to the elder. “This is Thalion, one of Greenwood’s leaders. He’s eager to hear about Glimmerfen.”

Thalion bowed slightly, his voice calm. “Welcome, Fenwick of Glimmerfen. We’re honored to host you.”

Fenwick nodded, his expression cautious but polite. “Thank you. Didn’t expect such a warm greeting.”

Akira grinned, clapping his shoulder. “How’d you get here so fast? We just arrived yesterday.”

Fenwick’s lips twitched in a rare smile. “Started the day after you left Havenbrook. Know a shortcut through the Ember Hills—cuts a day off the journey. Not many use it; too narrow for carts.”

Akira whistled, impressed. “Clever. Come, let’s talk at Thalion’s cottage.”

They led Fenwick through the village, passing cottages with flower-laden roofs and children playing in the fields. The gnome’s eyes darted about, taking in the starbloom grove and the bustling villagers, his lantern swinging at his side. At Thalion’s cottage, the door creaked open to reveal a cozy interior—shelves lined with scrolls, a hearth glowing warmly, and a table set with clay cups and a pitcher of moonberry juice. As they settled, the door opened again, and Elara, Hana, Liora, and Miren entered, their faces a mix of curiosity and warmth.

Elara stepped forward, her ponytail hair glinting. “Fenwick, welcome to Greenwood,” she said, her voice bright. “I’m Elara, Akira’s wife, as you already know. This is Hana, my mother-in-law, and Miren, Liora, our friend.”

Hana smiled, her apron dusted with flour. “It’s a pleasure. We’ve heard about your troubles in Glimmerfen.”

Liora waved, her moonstone bracelet catching the light. “I’m Liora. Excited to meet a gnome!”

Fenwick nodded, his guard easing slightly. “Kind of you all. Didn’t expect a crowd.”

Thalion poured juice, his tone inviting. “We’re a community here, Fenwick. Tell us, how fares Glimmerfen?”

Fenwick set his lantern down, his voice heavy. “Not well, I’m afraid. Winter was brutal—frost killed our root crops, leaving us with barely enough to scrape by. Spring brought pests, like nothing we’ve seen. Tiny beetles, black as coal, ate half our greens before we could blink. We’re surviving on our rainy season harvest, but it’s thin, and summer’s looking worse. Our elders forbade outside trade—too much pride, too much fear—but I couldn’t watch us starve. So I came.”

Elara’s eyes softened, her druidic senses stirring. “Pests and frost… that’s a heavy burden. We’ve had those kinds of struggles, but after Akira arrived, we are doing so much better. So, we’re willing to help.” 

Fenwick gets happy. "Then if we see that your trade is working and so your teachings to the elders, maybe, they won't refuse to trade anymore." But suddenly Fenwick remembered he had met a human in Havenbrook, and he trusted everyone here, so he wanted to tell them about that human.  

Fenwick's voice gets serious. "In Havenbrook, A human named Garrick wanted to help us. But he has a condition. But I can't trust humans that easily."
Fenwick’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “Garrick seemed decent, offered to visit Glimmerfen, teach us his ways. But I couldn’t trust him. Not after what humans did 400 years ago.”

Akira’s brow furrowed, curiosity burning. “Why? What happened 400 years ago? Everywhere I heard about war. After coming here, no one trusts humans at all. Tell me.”

Hana’s hand paused on her cup, her expression tense. “I’ve wondered, too. No one speaks of it, not even in Darkwood.”

Thalion exchanged a glance with Elara, who nodded, her face serious. He set his scroll aside, his voice low but steady. “It’s time you both knew. The history’s painful, but it shapes our present.”

(What could have happened in the past to this beautiful world?)