Supreme Hunter of Beautiful Souls

Exelia nodded, looking at the sealed circle. "Imagine what still sleeps in this forest."

Kael stared at her for a moment, still panting, his eyes catching the pale reflection of the magic dissipating in the air. "If that was just a fragment… how is it that the others are still asleep?"

"Because something greater keeps them this way," she replied, running her hand over the ground, slowly erasing the last traces of the magic circle. "A pact. A prison. Or an ancient fear that no one remembers anymore."

The silence after the confrontation was heavy, but not hostile. The trees seemed to breathe more lightly, as if freed from an uncomfortable presence. The wind blew through the branches again, carrying the damp smell of the forest and the subtle metallic aroma of black sand.

Kael struggled to his feet and looked at Chillrend. The blade was cracked at the base, small fissures running like frozen veins. "Damn it..."

Exelia approached and touched the sword with her fingers. "It held up longer than it should have. But it's still with you."

He put the weapon away, nodding regretfully. "Let's get out of here. Before another 'echo' decides to show up."

They both walked in silence for a while, their footsteps leaving temporary marks on the dark sand, soon swallowed by the humidity. Little by little, the forest began to seem less oppressive. The vegetation grew densely again. Small sounds of wildlife returned, as if nature were peeking to see if it was safe to leave.

The trail they followed now seemed more natural, winding, but clear enough to guide them. The light that crossed the canopy became more golden, soft, a sunset that seemed to last longer than it should.

"Did you know what that was?" Kael asked, breaking the silence. "That symbol on your forehead... I've never seen anything like it."

Exelia hesitated before answering. "It wasn't mine."

He looked at her, puzzled…

"I was raised in the elven kingdom, but I was never accepted. I was a human child—different. Strange. The priestesses said my presence disturbed the ancient flows. That I carried… echoes." She shrugged. "But nothing ever manifested. Until now."

Kael held her gaze for a moment, then nodded. "You're not what they expected. But you're not what they feared, either."

She smiled slightly. "You sound like an old book."

"I've spent too much time with people who read old books."

They passed through a natural archway formed by two intertwined trees. Just as they passed under it, Exelia stopped abruptly.

"What…?"

She held up her hand. "We're being watched."

Kael immediately reached for Chillrend's hilt, but didn't pull it out. The sound around them had changed again—no longer absolute silence, but a different kind of presence. As if the forest were holding its breath.

It was then that the shadows moved.

Dozens of shapes emerged from the trees, camouflaged by their surroundings, appearing with the precision of seasoned hunters. Elves. Tall, lean, with almost organic armor made of living wood, enchanted leaves, and fibers woven with liquid silver. Bows were raised. Curved blades were already drawn. No sound. No word.

"Shit…" Kael muttered, taking a step back but not drawing his sword.

One of the elves stepped forward—his face hidden beneath a thin helmet with ceremonial markings. He stopped a few feet away, his gaze cold and searching.

"Exelia of no house," he said in Elvish. Her voice was like the clink of glass under stress.

She lifted her chin, trying to maintain her composure. "I belong to no house, it's true. But I'm not at war with you."

"You stepped into ancestral territory without permission. You brought an armed foreigner." The elf looked at Kael as one might look at a stain on an ancient tapestry. "And you corrupted a shrine with sealing energy."

Exelia stepped forward. "I saved this place."

"That's not what the forest said."

Silence fell like a blade.

Kael finally stepped forward. "Listen, we don't want to fight. We face something back there that no one should face alone. Ask the earth, she'll show you.".

The elves didn't move. The nearest archer only tightened his grip on his bow.

"Her intentions are irrelevant," said the elf in front. "Her presence among us is already an affront. She is not welcome."

Exelia clenched her fists. "I have never been, have I?"

The elf ignored the taunt. "You will come with us. Both of us."

"And if we refuse?" Kael asked firmly.

The surrounding elves moved in unison—dozens of arrows were raised toward their hearts.

"Then your final choice will be made here."

The silence stretched for an eternal second.

Exelia took a deep breath and placed her hand on Kael's shoulder. "We will go with them."

He looked at her, surprised. "Are you sure?"

"They want to question us. But they won't kill us—yet. And maybe… maybe I will get answers I didn't have before."

Kael hesitated, then nodded.

The elves did not relax their bows until they were both surrounded. Two warriors stepped forward to bind Kael's hands with enchanted ribbons that tightened at the touch of his skin. The magic in them was cold and still. Absolute restraint.

As they were escorted into the forest, Kael took one last look at the clearing behind them, where the magical seal still glowed, subtly.

The walk to the elven camp was long and silent, punctuated only by the controlled sounds of the patrol and the rustling of leaves beneath their feet. Neither of the elves spoke a word after their arrest—their expressions were stony, impassive. Kael marched with his wrists bound with magical restraint ribbons, each step making the bonds tighten a little, as if the forest itself were judging his presence.

Exelia walked upright, but her eyes lowered, feeling the invisible gazes boring into her back. She knew what they were saying about her. She knew what they had always said. Bastard. Stain. Usurper of a home that was never hers.

As they crossed a living bridge—a tree arched between two cliffs, its roots forming steps—the camp finally came into view. Spread between the treetops and the ground, the site was made of structures carved directly from the wood: houses carved from living trunks, walkways woven from branches, lanterns hanging like magic fruits, emitting a soft amber light. But the natural beauty could not hide the tension.

As they entered, a crowd quickly formed. Elves emerged from all sides—warriors, healers, advisors, young apprentices—and all eyes turned to Exelia.

Their gazes were icy. Disgusting. Some of pure contempt, others of veiled fear. A child tugged at her mother's tunic to point at her, and the woman quickly pulled the child back, as if Exelia were an ancient disease that could be caught with a glance.

Kael frowned. "Are you all like this with visitors, or is it just her?"

"Silence, stranger," one of the guards at his side muttered, nudging him with the butt of his bow.

Exelia said nothing. Her eyes, however, were not on the ground. They were searching. They were searching for something they didn't know what to expect… until they found it.

High on one of the suspended platforms, standing between two sentries, an elf watched with wide eyes. She had braided hair that was almost golden copper, and a scar ran across the left side of her face—not a mark of battle, but of choice.

Exelia felt her heart clench.

Liora.

The elf's eyes filled with sudden fury. She strode down the steps of the platform, ignoring the protests of the surrounding soldiers.

The "Brigade Leader"—a tall elf in armor forged from black silver, with a cloak of enchanted leaves—raised his hand to stop her. "Liora, stay out of this. This creature is—"

CRACK.

The punch came before anyone could react.

Liora's hand smashed through his helmet like a war hammer. The sound of impact resounded like muffled thunder, and the leader's body flew ten feet backward, crashing into the trunk of a living tree. The wood groaned. The elf fell to his knees, his helmet crushed against his face, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

The silence in the camp was absolute.

Liora raised her still clenched fist, panting, her eyes shining with pure fury. "How dare you?" her voice cut through the air like a blade. "Arrest one of us?!"

A murmur ran through the crowd. Some recoiled. Others stared in shock.

The guard who had pushed Kael earlier was now trembling.

"She… she's not one of us, Liora!" one of the sentries protested weakly.

Liora turned to him with deadly slowness. "She was born here. She was raised here. She learned the language and the rituals. If she's not one of us, then neither am I."

Exelia stood still. Her eyes filled with tears, but she kept them open. Steady.

Liora turned then, staring directly at her friend. Her gaze softened—just a little. She held out her hand.

"You're back."

Exelia took a deep breath, slowly approached… and accepted the touch. Liora pulled her into a tight, rough, and sincere hug, as if trying to tie up something that had been falling apart for a long time.

Kael, still restrained, watched with an arched eyebrow. "Personally, I liked her."

Liora pulled back and faced him. "Are you the human who brought my sister back?"

"Your sister?"

"By soul, if not by blood." She then pointed to the magical ribbons that wrapped him. "Release him. Now."

The guards hesitated. Then they did.

Kael massaged his wrists. "You have a... warm way of welcoming allies."

"Our people fear what they do not understand." Liora looked at Exelia. "And those who refuse to bow."

Exelia sighed, her eyes still fixed on where the brigade leader lay, being tended by healers. "This will cause trouble."

"Let it," Liora said. "They have forgotten what loyalty is. Perhaps it is time to remember."

She then turned to the others, her voice rising with an authority that asked no permission. "Exelia is under my protection. Anyone who raises a finger against her does so against me. And if anyone wants to argue… let them come."

No one moved.

Liora then turned to Kael. "Do you have a story to tell, human?"

He nodded. "Long. And full of monsters."

"Good," she replied. "Because this here…"—she looked around—"is just beginning."