The girl who woke up an elf

The morning had begun perfectly.

The sun shone through a cloudless blue sky, birds crossed between the buildings, and the streets were already filling with students hurrying toward school.

Among them was a girl carrying a schoolbag against her shoulder.

Her name was Brenda.

She was seventeen, a high-school student, and—according to almost everyone who knew her—an unusually talented pianist.

Her bedroom walls were covered with certificates.

Her shelves were crowded with trophies.

First place.

Second place.

Regional competition.

National competition.

Awards for performances that had left judges staring at her hands as though they belonged to someone much older.

Brenda had spent years practicing.

Hours every day.

While other students complained about homework, she had been sitting in front of a piano.

While her friends went out on weekends, she had sometimes stayed home repeating the same difficult passage until her fingers could play it without thought.

Her future seemed obvious.

She would become a pianist.

A professional one.

Maybe even a famous one.

That thought occupied her mind as she walked to school.

If I keep improving at this rate, maybe I can enter the international competition next year.

She smiled.

Then maybe a conservatory.

Her thoughts raced ahead.

A concert hall.

A massive audience.

A grand piano beneath a spotlight.

Her fingers moving effortlessly across the keys.

The applause.

The possibility of standing on a stage somewhere far from home and hearing thousands of people cheering after a performance she had spent years preparing for.

Brenda became so absorbed in the fantasy that she stopped paying attention to the road.

That was her mistake.

There was a crack in the side of a nearby building.

It had been there for some time.

A section of the structure had weakened.

A large concrete block shifted.

Brenda didn't notice.

She kept walking.

Maybe I'll even compose my own music someday.

A strange sound reached her ears.

A crack.

She looked up.

Her smile disappeared.

The block was falling.

“...Huh?”

There wasn't enough time to move.

The world vanished beneath a deafening impact.

Then—

Darkness.

---

Brenda opened her eyes.

She was staring at a wooden ceiling.

For several seconds, she didn't move.

Her mind was blank.

Where am I?

She blinked.

Then blinked again.

Something felt wrong.

Very wrong.

She remembered walking to school.

She remembered the building.

She remembered looking up.

She remembered—

Her breathing stopped.

The block.

Brenda immediately sat upright.

“Am I alive?”

Her voice sounded strangely loud in the room.

She looked around.

She wasn't in a hospital.

She wasn't in her bedroom.

She wasn't anywhere she recognized.

Instead, she found herself sitting at the center of an enormous chamber.

A long wooden table stretched across the room.

A gigantic map covered most of it.

Dozens of people stood around the table.

They were talking rapidly.

Very rapidly.

Brenda stared at them.

Then her brain stopped processing the words.

“What...?”

They were speaking a language she didn't recognize.

At least, she didn't think she recognized it.

The people surrounding the table wore strange clothing—some in armor, some in robes, others in elaborate military uniforms.

And then Brenda noticed something else.

Their ears.

She stared.

Pointed ears.

Everywhere.

She looked at one person.

Pointed ear.

Another.

Pointed ear.

Another.

She slowly turned her head.

Pointed ears.

Pointed ears.

Pointed ears.

Her eyes widened.

“No.”

Nobody responded.

“No, no, no.”

She jumped to her feet.

“WHERE AM I?!”

The entire room fell silent.

Every head turned toward her.

Brenda pointed at the nearest elf.

“WHY ARE YOUR EARS LIKE THAT?!”

The elf stared at her.

Someone whispered.

“She really has changed.”

Brenda looked around desperately.

“Who are you people?! Why am I here?!”

Her panic grew when she noticed something else.

Her hands.

They were smaller than she remembered.

Her skin looked different.

Her hair fell over her shoulders in a color she had never seen on herself before.

She grabbed a strand.

White.

“...What?”

She pulled it in front of her face.

White hair.

Completely white.

Her heart hammered.

“What's happening to me?”

Then something strange occurred.

The language around her began to change.

The sounds that had previously been meaningless gradually became understandable.

It was almost as if her brain were translating them by itself.

“...The eastern formation is still incomplete.”

“The scouts reported movement near Palem.”

“If they cross the river, our defensive line will collapse.”

“We don't have enough soldiers there.”

Brenda stared at them.

I can understand them now.

She looked at the enormous map.

Then at the people surrounding it.

Then at the weapons resting against the walls.

Then back at the pointed ears.

A tall, older man stepped toward her.

He looked nothing like the confused soldiers around him.

His posture was straight.

His shoulders were broad.

His gray hair was neatly tied behind his head.

Despite his age, he possessed the physical presence of someone who could probably defeat several armed men without breaking a sweat.

His eyes were calm.

“Averly,” he said.

Brenda froze.

“...What?”

The old man frowned.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Averly?”

“Yes.”

Brenda pointed at herself.

“You called me Averly?”

The man stared.

“Yes.”

Who the hell is Averly?

She looked down at herself again.

White hair.

Different clothes.

Different body.

Different world.

Her mind finally connected the pieces.

She remembered the falling building.

The darkness.

Waking up here.

The pointed ears.

The unfamiliar body.

Her eyes widened.

No.

Her mouth fell open.

Did I just...

She swallowed.

Did I just reincarnate?

She looked at the elves again.

Into a world of elves?!

“I never even believed in reincarnation.”

The old man raised an eyebrow.

Brenda suddenly remembered something.

“My career!”

Everyone stared at her.

“My piano!”

Her voice cracked.

“WAAAAAAAH!”

She dropped to her knees.

“My piano career!”

The room became even more confused.

One elf slowly looked toward another.

“Is she cursed?”

“I don't know.”

“She has been acting strangely since she woke.”

The old man pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Averly.”

Brenda looked up.

“This isn't the time for jokes.”

“I'm not joking!”

“We are in the middle of a crisis.”

The old man's voice hardened.

“You are supposed to be leading the eastern forces.”

Brenda's face went blank.

“...Leading?”

“Yes.”

“Leading what?”

The man pointed toward the map.

“Thousands of soldiers.”

Brenda stared at him.

Then at the map.

Then at the soldiers.

Then at herself.

“Thousands?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed.

I don't even know where I am.

The old man continued.

“The orc army is advancing toward Palem. Our forces are waiting for your command.”

Brenda's soul nearly left her body again.

Orcs?

She looked toward the window.

Maybe this was a dream.

Maybe she would wake up.

Maybe she would find herself lying in a hospital bed.

Maybe her mother would be there.

Maybe she could return to school.

Maybe she could sit at her piano again.

Maybe—

“Enough.”

The old man slapped his hand against the table.

Everyone became silent.

His expression hardened.

“Averly, whatever strange mood you're in, get yourself together. We will question your behavior after the war.”

Brenda stared at him.

He really thinks I'm Averly.

She lowered her head.

So that's my name in this world.

Averly.

The name sounded strange.

Yet somehow...

Familiar.

She didn't understand why.

The old man turned back toward the map.

“Continue.”

The meeting resumed.

Brenda remained standing.

She listened.

Or tried to.

Palem.

Eastern border.

Orcs.

Defensive formations.

Thousands of soldiers.

Magical support.

Supply routes.

She understood the words, but none of them made sense together.

It was like being handed a piano score for a song she'd never heard and being told to perform it in front of ten thousand people.

Her stomach twisted.

I can't do this.

One by one, the elves began leaving the chamber.

Brenda watched them.

“Wait.”

Nobody stopped.

“Where are you going?”

One soldier looked at her strangely.

“To the battlefield.”

“Already?”

“Yes.”

Another passed her.

“The army is waiting for you.”

Brenda smiled nervously.

“Right.”

He left.

Another followed.

Then another.

Within minutes, the massive chamber had emptied.

Brenda stood alone.

Silence.

She looked around.

“...Where did everyone go?”

She slowly walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

They're actually going to war.

Her heart started racing.

And apparently I'm supposed to go with them.

She imagined herself standing in front of thousands of soldiers.

“Charge!”

She shook her head.

“No.”

She imagined an orc running toward her.

“No.”

She imagined being handed a sword.

“No.”

She imagined herself dying again.

“Absolutely not.”

Brenda turned around.

“I should escape.”

She took one step.

“Definitely.”

Another.

“I don't know where I am.”

Another.

“I don't know how magic works.”

Another.

“I don't know who these people are.”

She reached the doorway.

“And I certainly don't know how to command an army.”

A voice suddenly spoke behind her.

“Why are you still here?”

“AAAAAAAH!”

Brenda jumped so violently that she nearly fell.

A boy stood behind her.

She hadn't heard him approach.

He looked young—perhaps around her age—but his expression was irritated.

“You're supposed to be at Palem.”

“Palem?”

“The battlefield.”

“Oh.”

He stared at her.

“Why are you acting strange?”

“I...”

Brenda's eyes darted around.

“I'm thinking.”

“Then stop thinking and move.”

“What?”

“The army is waiting.”

Before Brenda could respond, the boy disappeared.

She froze.

“...”

She slowly turned her head.

Nothing.

He was gone.

Brenda stared at the empty hallway.

“Did that kid just teleport?”

She looked at the enormous doors.

Then back down the corridor.

“Okay.”

She swallowed.

“This world has magic.”

She walked outside.

And forgot her fear for a moment.

The sight before her was breathtaking.

The kingdom stretched beneath a brilliant sky.

Towering structures curved upward like living trees.

Bridges connected enormous buildings.

Crystal-like structures shimmered in the sunlight.

Magical lights floated through the streets.

Elves moved through the kingdom in every direction.

Some carried weapons.

Others carried supplies.

Children ran through the streets.

Merchants shouted.

Soldiers rushed toward the eastern gates.

The entire kingdom seemed alive.

Brenda stood there in silence.

“...Wow.”

For the first time since waking up, she smiled.

“This is real.”

A maid suddenly rushed toward her.

“Averly!”

Brenda turned.

The maid stopped in front of her, breathing heavily.

“Why aren't you at the battlefield?”

“I'm...”

Brenda looked toward the eastern gate.

“Where is the battlefield?”

The maid's face went pale.

“What?”

“Where is Palem?”

“East.”

“How far?”

The maid stared.

“You've never asked me that before.”

“Just tell me.”

“Several hours.”

Brenda's expression collapsed.

“Several hours?!”

“Yes.”

“And thousands of soldiers are waiting?”

“Yes.”

Brenda looked toward the eastern horizon.

Then back at the maid.

“...I'm going to die.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She started running.

The maid watched her disappear.

“Averly?”

Brenda ran through the kingdom as fast as she could.

Her heart pounded.

Her lungs burned.

Her thoughts raced.

Okay.

New world.

New body.

New name.

Elves.

Magic.

Orcs.

War.

And somehow I'm apparently one of the people responsible for stopping it.

She clenched her fists.

“I don't even know how to use magic!”

She kept running.

Behind her, the kingdom disappeared into the distance.

Ahead waited Palem.

An army.

An invasion.

And a life she had never asked for.

But somewhere beyond the eastern horizon, thousands of elves were already waiting for a girl named Averly.

And none of them knew that the woman leading them...

wasn't the Averly they remembered.

She was Brenda.

A pianist who had died yesterday.

And today—

She was an elf.