Vaelorian couldn’t wrap his head around the King’s decision of waiting for one whole week.

It had already been three days since the council and apart from himself no one else seemed to be paying heed to the vulnerable Elves who were suffering outside.

The corridor stretched ahead, long and hushed, its pale stone walls threaded with faint veins of mana that pulsed like a distant heartbeat. The light they cast was steady, almost serene, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiled beneath his skin. His steps did not falter, measured and unhurried.

He kept thinking of the fabric that carried the sigil of the demons and then the mana stone that carried the essence of a Dragon. But then again, why would they have to wait for a week?

What purpose would that serve?

If there were demons then they had to act swiftly for the absolute protection of Yggdrasil.

The thought refused to settle, like something that would not take shape no matter how often it returned.

Too many things had already been allowed to unfold under the guise of patience. Too many lives had been lost while they stood still, convincing themselves that restraint was wisdom and hesitation was virtue. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

He had seen this before.

Not in this place, not within these lands that now stood on the edge of fracture, but in echoes of a past that refused to remain buried. The circumstances had been different, the players unfamiliar, but the pattern had always been the same.

A threat dismissed as premature.

A response delayed in the name of caution.

And when action finally came, it came too late.

The memory did not surface fully, but the weight of it remained, heavy and certain.

Vaelorian slowed as he reached one of the open balconies that overlooked the lower courtyards. The night air drifted in through the archway, cool and steady, carrying with it the faint, ever-present hum of Yggdrasil. It was a sound most found comforting, a reminder of balance, of life continuing as it always had.

To him, it felt like a fragile illusion.

He stepped closer to the edge, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze settling somewhere beyond the palace grounds where the vast canopy stretched into darkness. The world appeared calm from here, untouched by the unrest that had begun to spread beneath its surface.

Appearances had always been deceptive.

A third force.

A Dragon.

Demons.

The words circled his thoughts, each one improbable in isolation, yet together forming something he could not entirely dismiss. He had lived long enough to know that impossibility was often only a matter of perspective. There had been a time when even the fall of kingdoms and the corruption of sacred grounds had seemed unthinkable.

And yet they had happened.

Still, speculation remained speculation.

What did not require belief were the bodies, four more had been found in the forest while those from the outer small villages were migrating further inside. Their villages were being attacked and houses were being burned.

It was easy to close your eyes and maintain the facade of peace but when the enemy was actively attacking, keeping your claws hidden wasn’t a virtue, but cowardice. And even though there was a vague evidence of Dark forces, Vaelorian found one possibility believable- the Dark Elves had finally given up on their connection to Yggdrasil.

Vaelorian’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Demons or not, things were getting out of hand.

If there was a hidden hand guiding this, then it was doing so through very real consequences. And if there was none then the danger lay exactly where it appeared to be.

Inaction would serve neither truth. And after years of experience he knew one thing, peace was never an option between his kind and the Dark Elves.

He exhaled slowly, the breath leaving him in a controlled, measured release as his expression settled into something colder, more resolved.

"If there is a hidden hand," he murmured under his breath, his voice low against the quiet of the night, "then it will reveal itself when the board is forced to move."

The words lingered for a moment before dissolving into silence.

And if there was none, then waiting would only ensure that whatever remained to be saved would be lost in the delay.

Vaelorian straightened.

There was no hesitation left in him now, no lingering doubt to be weighed against caution. The line had already been crossed; it simply had not yet been acknowledged.

He turned from the balcony without another glance.

By the time he resumed walking, the decision had already settled into place, firm and unyielding.

Whatever came next, he would not allow it to unfold without resistance.

The training grounds lay quieter at this hour, though not empty. A handful of guards remained stationed along the perimeter, their armor catching faint glimmers of light as they moved. At Vaelorian’s approach, they straightened instantly.

He did not acknowledge them.

"Summon Captain Rhylen," he said as he passed.

The guard bowed. "At once, my lord."

Vaelorian stepped into the inner section of the grounds, faded into a contained quiet. He did not wait long.

Measured footsteps approached from behind.

"My lord."

Vaelorian turned.

Rhylen stood tall, clad in light armor, his posture disciplined, his gaze steady. He was not among the loudest or the most decorated, but he was precise and reliable.

That was what mattered.

"There will be a deployment," Vaelorian said without preamble.

Rhylen’s expression did not change. "Orders, my lord?"

"A contained operation," Vaelorian continued. "Western grove perimeter. The same region where the bodies were discovered."

A pause.

"We will not advance deep enough to provoke full retaliation. This is not war."

Rhylen inclined his head slightly. "And the objective?"

"To eliminate any active threat within that region," Vaelorian replied. "Disrupt their surface routes. Collapse access points where necessary."

His gaze sharpened.

"No damage is to be done to Yggdrasil’s roots. Any engagement must remain controlled."

Rhylen absorbed the command in silence for a moment.

Then, "Does His Majesty know of this operation?"

Vaelorian held his gaze.

"This is a preventative measure," he said calmly. "Not a declaration."

The answer was enough.

Rhylen bowed. "Understood."

"Take only those who can move without drawing attention," Vaelorian added. "This must be swift."

"It will be done."

Rhylen turned and left without another word.

Vaelorian remained where he stood for a moment longer, watching the empty training grounds as though measuring something unseen.

Then he moved again.

His chambers were silent when he entered.

The door closed behind him with a soft, final click.

Vaelorian crossed the room and paused at his desk, his fingers resting lightly against its polished surface before he pulled out a sheet of parchment. The quill dipped smoothly into ink as he began to write.

His hand did not hesitate.

To His Majesty Erisgrirlum, King of the Dwarves,

Recent events within Elvenland have taken a grave turn.

Multiple patrols have been found slain under circumstances that bear the unmistakable mark of dead mana. What was once contained to minor skirmishes has now escalated into deliberate and repeated attacks.

This alone would warrant concern.

However, there is reason to believe that the situation extends beyond a mere conflict between our kind.

There are indications- subtle, but consistent- that the Dark Elves are no longer acting alone.

The nature of the corruption observed upon the fallen, as well as the increasing coordination of these attacks, suggests the possible involvement of forces long thought absent from this land.

Demons.

Should this prove true, the implications extend far beyond Elvenland.

Yggdrasil itself may become a target.

I trust I do not need to elaborate on what such an outcome would mean for all who dwell upon Edrisyl.

His Majesty Aelfric has chosen, for the time being, a path of restraint.

I, however, find it prudent to prepare for what may follow should that restraint be exploited.

I request that you consider reinforcing your positions along the borders and remain ready to intervene should the situation deteriorate further.

If the Dark Elves have indeed aligned themselves with such forces, then this is no longer an internal matter.

It is a threat to us all.

-- Vaelorian Thryss

Vaelorian read over the letter once, his expression unchanged.

He folded it neatly and sealed it with his crest.

A quiet knock followed.

"Enter."

A messenger stepped inside and bowed.

"This is to be delivered to the Dwarven King," Vaelorian said, handing over the letter. "Without delay."

The messenger accepted it. "Yes, my lord."

When the door closed once more, Vaelorian stood alone in the silence.

Everything had been set into motion.

Far from Elvenland, within the stone-hewn halls of the Dwarven kingdom the next morning, the letter was received without ceremony and carried through corridors carved from mountain and time.

Erisgrirlum read it in silence.

His heavy brows drew together gradually as his eyes moved across the parchment, each line settling deeper than the last.

"Demons..." He muttered, "So they’ve been already notified."

His fingers tapped once against the armrest of his seat as he leaned back slightly, the weight of the implication pressing against his thoughts.

The Dragon had warned him of this possibility, but now that he had the handwritten letter of an Elvenland Elder, things seemed to be escalating even faster than what he had anticipated.

If they couldn’t prepare properly or if any skirmish happened before the decided time then, the Dragon’s absence might result in catastrophic destruction.

Erisgrirlum exhaled slowly.

After a moment, he reached into his side and pulled out a small mana brooch, its faint blue glow steady and calm.

He turned it once between his fingers, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a quiet resolve, he poured a thread of mana into it.

If there was even a chance that this could go out of hands then it was time to ask the one who might already know.