Requiem of the Forgotten

A month had passed since Dragontown was officially born.

It still wasn't much to look at—mostly wooden structures hastily thrown together, with dirt roads that turned into rivers of mud whenever it rained—but it was home. In its own rough, barely functional way. People had settled into routines. Some built. Some hunted. Some just sat around, complaining about how they missed modern plumbing. The world hadn't gotten any easier, but at least it wasn't pure chaos anymore.

And somehow, we were still here.

The morning started like most others. Cold air, distant chatter, the smell of something burning. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be food or just an accident.

I sat near the main fire, legs stretched out, staring at a crude map someone had scratched into the dirt. It was supposed to show our surroundings, but honestly, it just looked like a three-year-old had gone nuts with a stick.

Carmen plopped down beside me, stretching with a groan. "I swear to God, if I have to eat another roasted root, I'm going to start chewing on my own arm."

"Please don't," Amina muttered as she stirred a steaming pot over the fire. "We're barely keeping order as it is."

Daisuke, sitting cross-legged and scribbling in his ever-present notebook, didn't even glance up. "Nutritionally speaking, human meat wouldn't be sustainable in the long term."

Carmen blinked. "You know what, Daisuke? I'd really love it if you didn't start my morning by casually analyzing cannibalism."

"I'm just saying."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Are we seriously having a conversation about eating each other? This early?"

Caelith, who had been sitting perfectly still, observing us like we were some rare species, finally spoke. "Statistically, humans do resort to cannibalism in extreme survival situations."

Carmen threw up her hands. "Great! Fantastic! Can we not?"

I turned to Amina. "What are you making?"

"Something that won't kill us."

"Very specific."

"I try my best."

The small talk was cut short by a disturbance at the main path leading into town. A small group of figures approached, their movements controlled and deliberate. Even from a distance, I recognized the flowing robes and elegant posture.

The elves were back.

I stood up, brushing dirt off my pants. Carmen groaned beside me. "Great. Tall, blonde, and judgmental are back."

Daisuke adjusted his glasses. "It was only a matter of time. We are a growing settlement. Political engagement was inevitable."

"Daisuke, if you don't stop talking like a textbook, I swear I'll throw you in the river."

Seris, the more reasonable of the elven delegation, stepped forward, offering a nod. Vaelion, on the other hand, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. His golden hair was immaculate, his expression as unreadable as ever.

But before I could even open my mouth, I realized they weren't alone.

Behind them were more elves—figures draped in dark, muted tones, their expressions colder, more distant. One of them in particular stood out—a woman with piercing silver eyes and a regal presence that made even Vaelion seem like an afterthought.

Caelith, who had been standing beside me like a statue, finally moved.

And for the first time since I'd met him… his expression changed. It was subtle, barely noticeable. But for someone as emotionless as Caelith, it was the equivalent of a full-body spasm.

The woman regarded him with unreadable eyes. "Ascended."

The way she said it wasn't friendly.

Vaelion cleared his throat. "We have not come here for conflict. We bring an invitation."

I crossed my arms. "Invitation to what?"

"To the Marktfest in Topolin," Seris answered. "A diplomatic gathering of all major settlements."

Carmen frowned. "Wait. You guys do festivals?"

"It is more than that," Vaelion said impatiently. "Leaders from across the continent will be attending. Including representatives of the dwarves, the orcs, and the united one's."

I blinked. "Wait, Lydia's sending people?"

Seris nodded. "Lydia and her People have remained neutral, but they have influence. It is an opportunity."

"For what?"

"To determine the future."

That shut me up.

There was a long silence. Then, Daisuke muttered, "Statistically, attending this gathering would provide insight into the political landscape of the region."

I sighed. "Daisuke, please, for once, stop being a walking encyclopedia."

Carmen leaned toward me. "We're actually going, right?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "I mean… I don't see how we can not go."

Seris looked mildly amused. "That is the correct answer."

Vaelion, meanwhile, looked like he was resisting the urge to throw something at me. "We will leave in three days. Be prepared."

As the elves turned to leave, the silver-eyed woman lingered for just a moment longer, her gaze still locked on Caelith. Then she was gone, her presence like a fading echo.

I let out a slow breath. Carmen clapped me on the back. "Well, congrats, fearless leader. Looks like you're a politician now."

I groaned. "I hate everything about that sentence."

Amina smiled slightly. "You'll survive."

Daisuke jotted something down. "I estimate a 65% survival rate for diplomatic meetings."

I turned to him. "Daisuke, I swear to God—"

He grinned. "I'm just saying."

Three days. Then we'd find out where Dragontown really stood in the grand scheme of things.

-I had a bad feeling about this.