The Hidden Realm of Nólemundë

They were surrounded. Every bowstring pulled, every hooded figure aiming straight at them. Steel gleamed faintly from hidden scabbards, and the circle around them grew tighter.

Gorran's jaw clenched as his hand twitched toward his weapon. Then, without warning, Maeryn fell down, vomiting.

"Maeryn!" Gorran's voice broke, panic flashing across his face as he ran to her side.

The hooded leader shouted, "I said don't move!" His fingers released the bowstring, sending an arrow hissing through the air—

Kazuki's hand shot up. The golden crown blazed above his head as radiance poured from his skin. The arrow froze mid-flight, caught between his fingers.

Gasps rippled among the elves.

From the distance, a stern voice thundered, "Lower your weapons!"

The commander stiffened, his bow still trembling in his grip. "But father—they trespassed into the barrier!"

The voice grew nearer, calm but sharp as steel. "Do they look like the Fallen to you? One among them carries the light openly."

The crowd parted as the speaker approached. Tall and slim. He pushed back his hood, revealing long, flowing hair of pale gold, and ears tapered to elegant points. His face was timeless, noble, yet marked with weariness.

He bowed deeply. "Forgive my son for his rashness, human travelers. I am Caliondur, leader of the remaining elves. This is my son, Rúmilion."

Kazuki's eyes widened, wonder breaking across his face as the golden glow faded back into flesh. "Elves… You're elves."

The others exchanged blank looks.

"Elves?" Zephyr echoed.

Kazuki stared at others in shock. "What?! You live in this world and you don't know what an elf is?"

Ardent shook his head. "I've traveled my whole life and never seen nor heard of such a race."

"Our histories are old," Alvis admitted, his tone thoughtful, "but beyond a point they are broken. When the Second Cycle began, a fire consumed every book we had. From then on, knowledge was rewritten. Anything before… is lost to us."

Caliondur's eyes narrowed slightly, turning toward Kazuki. "We have remained hidden for a few millennia. How do you know of us?"

Kazuki drew in a breath. "Because… I'm not of this world. Where I come from, your people—elves—are in every tale and book of fantasy. Stories of light, of wisdom, of immortality."

The words hung heavy, puzzling the ancient elf.

Rúmilion stepped forward, his voice measured but curious. "Then tell us, strangers. What brought you here?"

Alvis answered with clarity. "We are on a mission to defeat the Demon Lord. On our journey, the goddess Sraosha appeared to us. She commanded we seek a hidden dungeon near the Shroud—something within it is needed for our task."

Shock passed between Caliondur and his son. In the same heartbeat, every hooded figure dropped to one knee.

"Forgive us," Rúmilion said, bowing until his brow touched the ground. His voice trembled with shame. "Had I known you were sent by the goddess herself, I would never have raised arms against you."

Kazuki quickly stepped forward, with Zephyr close beside him. "Please—don't bow to us. Stand."

Caliondur rose. "Then come with us. You will be shown food and rest. Your ill companion will be tended to."

Gorran lifted Maeryn gently into his arms. Relief broke across his hardened face.

The elves led them deeper into the barrier, through winding paths of ancient stone that soon opened into a vast cavern. Light poured down from great shafts in the ceiling, cascading across trees that grew even underground. Wooden bridges arched over clear streams. Towering pillars of carved stone reached like trunks of an eternal forest, their roots merging with the walls.

It was a hidden realm, alive and radiant, a place untouched by the foul corruption outside. It was a vision of majesty.

Caliondur's voice rose, carrying across the dungeon.

"Attention, my beloved people!"

The elves gathered quickly, their faces lifting with hope as their leader spoke.

"The Gods have not abandoned us! The goddess has sent a convoy of her chosen, to free us from the darkness!" He gestured toward Kazuki and the others.

A roar of voices answered him, cries of joy and prayers of thanks echoing through the vaulted chamber.

Caliondur turned back to them, eyes warm. "Welcome, travelers, to Nólemundë. Rest now. Tonight, we hold a feast in your honor."

He turned to his son. "Rúmilion. Bring the healer to my home to tend to their ill companion at once."

And so they were led deeper into the elven stronghold—beneath archways of light and wood, into a realm thought lost to history.

As they followed Caliondur deeper into the radiant halls, the elves they passed stopped what they were doing and bowed low, their voices murmuring blessings and prayers. Mothers drew their children close, and even the smallest elves lowered their heads in reverence.

Zephyr leaned toward Kazuki with a crooked smile. "They bow like we've descended straight out of the heavens."

Ardent's eyes darted uneasily from side to side. "It unsettles me. Reverence that deep… it can turn dangerous if we fail their expectations."

Alvis, however, wore a look of quiet awe, taking in the wooden bridges and houses. "We are walking through history long thought burned away. To be honored by them is not a curse—it is a miracle."

Gorran shifted Maeryn carefully in his arms. "I don't care for their bowing. All I care for is that healer. If their honor means saving her life, then let them bow a hundred times more."

Maeryn stirred faintly and placed a trembling hand on his chest. Her lips curled into a weak smile. "I'm fine… really. Just need a bit of rest, that's all."

At last, they reached a grand set of doors carved with flowing designs of trees, stars, and radiant suns. The wood shimmered faintly as though alive, veins of silver running through its grain. Two elves standing guard pressed their palms to the panels, and with a low groan, the gates opened inward.

Inside, Kazuki's breath caught.

The home of Caliondur was no mere dwelling—it was a palace. Vast archways soared high overhead, their wooden columns shaped like trees whose branches intertwined to form a vaulted ceiling laced with glowing crystal-light. Water flowed in slender streams down the walls into clear pools, their surfaces reflecting the golden gleam of lanterns shaped like hanging blossoms. Intricate tapestries wove stories of ancient battles and radiant dawns long forgotten by the outside world.

Zephyr's eyes widened in wonder. "It's… beautiful. Like the forest itself grew into a palace."

Caliondur, smiled faintly as he gestured them forward. "Welcome, honored ones, to my hall. Here you shall rest and recover your strength—for the road before you will demand it."

The doors opened again and Rúmilion stepped in, a tall figure beside him. The elf woman moved with quiet grace, her long silver robes glimmering faintly.

"She will take care of her," Rúmilion said, giving a respectful nod before stepping aside.

The healer disappeared into the chamber where Maeryn rested. Outside, the party waited in tense silence. Gorran paced in tight circles.

"Gorran," Zephyr said softly, "she'll be alright."

Alvis tried for a reassuring grin. "Indeed. She's tougher than she looks. You'll see."

But Gorran said nothing. His fists clenching and unclenching as he paced a hole into the floor.

At last, the door creaked open. The healer stepped out, her hands folded before her. Everyone turned at once, their eyes searching her face.

"They are fine," she said calmly. "It is the darkness of this land that weakened them. I gave her medicine and healing magic. With rest, both of them will recover."

Everyone frowned. "'Both of them'?"

Gorran froze mid-step, his head snapping up. "Both…?"

The healer nodded gently. "Yes. The mother and the child."

For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then every jaw dropped.

"A… a child?" the twins whispered, their eyes wide.

Gorran stood rooted, his mouth hanging open, unable to process the words. Slowly, shock melted into something else—his lips trembling, then curling into the broadest smile he had ever worn. His shoulders shook, and a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob escaped his chest.

"By the Gods…" he muttered. "A child…"

Before anyone could react, Ardent strode forward with a grin, clapping him hard on the shoulder. "Congratulations, old bear!"

Gorran let out a roar of laughter, scooping Ardent straight off the floor in a crushing hug that lifted the man's boots clean off the ground. Ardent wheezed but laughed with him.

One by one, the others joined in—congratulations and embraces. Smiles and laughter filled the grand hall, their joy echoing off the walls like music. Hope and happiness shone among them.

And now, they needed to prepare themselves for the feast that awaited them. Unaware of the history sleeping within the dungeon's heart.