Songbirds and Salutations

“In order to truly understand the harsh nature of the Abandoned Forest, one must first comprehend the worst challenges that come from living in the great continent of Aalto. And that’s just the start.” -Legendary fire mage Vera, 1216.

Deep in the Abandoned Forest, just inside the western border of Igna, the warm mid-morning weather fought desperately to reveal itself through the thick canopy all around. However, despite this fierce battle raging outside, the small cabin’s only inhabitant remained sound asleep, sprawled lazily on her bed in the corner, the sounds of snoring and songbirds dominating the region.

Open on the desk nearby is a book titled Common human knowledge of the 1200s.

The open page in question lists the following:

Samu: The coldest season, lasting two months (Ichi and Ni)

Atsu: The warm season, the only season lasting three months and usually considered the busy season for humans. (San, Yo, and Go)

Onu: The third season, I don’t really get it but I think they prepare for Samu here. Lasts two months (Roku and Fin)

Each month is 10 weeks lasting 5 days each. The days in order are called Actal, Bactal, Cetal, Den, and En, and most humans don’t work on En.

Everything in the book appears to be handwritten, and the owner of the book finally stirs from her sleep, rubbing her eyes and slowly adjusting to wakefulness.

Her eyes take in the cabin in which she slept, the thick wooden walls and moderate use of water or fire magic (depending on the season) keeping the temperature acceptable year round. Next to the large bed lay the table on which her newest book sits, with it a chair and small magical light.

The kitchen begins to whir in a chaotic frenzy of wind magic as the elf Aki turns her attention towards it. The fire boar’s meat left over from last night's dinner quickly finds itself heated and assembled as a part of a breakfast sandwich, which itself flies over to the now sitting elf.

This morning wasn’t particularly special in any way to Aki. After all, she’d been doing the same thing for a few hundred years now, only rarely sleeping outside the safety of the cabin, and never once since she entered the forest, in or near a human civilization.

The newest edition of her book detailing the changes humans make to what’s considered common knowledge, was only assembled as a result of a few scouting missions to the edge of the forest to spy on a human settlement.

Aki yawns before stretching slowly and deliberately, her body aching from the awkward resting position, or rather from how long she’s been sleeping like that.

As she opens the window, the enchanting sound of the backdrop’s birdsong is carried in with the uncomfortably humid warm air. The rainfall in the region has been rather extreme lately, Aki decides as she quickly shuts the window and sits down to continue writing in her book.

Pushed to a corner on the floor next to the desk lay a few other books she wrote, all long outdated now. It wasn’t uncommon for Aki to lose herself while writing a book, and there was even a time ages ago where she wrote them for others to read.

Knock, knock, knock.

In a forest where sounds you’ve never even heard of are commonplace, sometimes the opposite is true as well.

Fortunately for the unknown human who was knocking at Aki’s door, it didn’t seem he would have to wait very long for a response.

“What do you want?” The most unique voice he’d ever heard asked from behind him of all places, even though he was sure he’d heard movement inside.

The voice in question was as smooth as can be, someone who must have practiced speaking for hundreds of years, confident, and firm, yet sweet and inviting. And her accent… Felix wondered as he turned to face the mysterious voice.

The accent was somehow unlike and like every accent he’d ever heard. It reminded him of merchants who traveled from Lio or Kyo, mages from the far north of Igna, and even the village elders he looked up to.

As he finally turned, there was no face to be seen, no one was there. Only the thick vegetation at the end of the clearing greeted him.

“Hello?” Felix asks, searching for a sliver of movement through the building-thick trees filling his vision.

There’s no response, only the rustling of leaves, even the birds seemingly not willing to converse at this point.

Felix hesitates for a moment, confused, before recalling the question he’d been asked by the distracting voice.

“I’m here on behalf of the land of Igna. In the belief that the story is true, that the last elf indeed wishes to lend her aid, the elders deem the darkest hour is approaching. I, their humble messenger, simply deliver you the news.”

One second passes, then two, then ten.

Minutes come and go as Felix begins to question his sanity. Had he gone mad from these weeks of travel in the forest?

Just as he was about to turn and try knocking on the door again, the forest parts in front of his eyes.

Where before there were trees so densely packed that light barely crept through, now there was a clear path, headed by the last elf.

She has flawless skin, is relatively short in height, and has long black hair that turns white towards the end.

And her eyes.

Felix stared for a good ten seconds before composing himself, but even then couldn’t tell what color they were.

Each time she turned her head slightly, the light seemed to reflect a different color back at him. First bright purple, green followed by jet black, a subtle grey and a vibrant blue, it was impossible.

“So, what is this darkest hour?” She asked, holding open the door to the cabin and inviting her guest in for a nice, long chat.