Dragons and Elves

by Luke Thomas

Dear Diary,

I spent the first week after Amarra’s departure locked in my makeshift stone tower. I couldn't face the world, let alone my friends. I felt hollowed out, betrayed by the very source of my magical foundation. I instructed my students to leave me be. Poor Anna knocked on my door several times, bringing plates of food that I would take without a word before shutting the heavy oak door in her face.

She deserves a better master than a brooding, heartbroken fool. For a dark moment, I actually wondered if I should send her to Amarra—surely her training would be superior there. But I quickly buried the thought. I promised to take charge of Anna's instruction, and I don't break my promises. Besides, who knows what Amarra is truly capable of now.

It was Alistan who finally dragged me out of my misery. He knocked on my door and announced we were building a wall around Tarn. He admitted his first instinct was to drag me to a tavern to drown our sorrows, but figured back-breaking labor might serve me better. We spent the afternoon digging trenches and hauling stone, bonding over our shared trauma of deeply disappointing mother figures. It helped. Getting my hands dirty, focusing on the physical foundations of our new home—it grounded me. Everyone chipped in, pooling our funds to pay masons and laborers. Even Edward, Tarn's official ruler, was moved by the effort and contributed heavily to the defenses.

---

**2nd of Hagan**

With Tarn solidifying its defenses, we needed allies. I teleported us directly to the gates of Latebra Velora, the Draconic empire, nearly giving a patrol of dragonborn guards a heart attack. Once Alistan smoothed things over and they realized who we were, they stood down. They told us the region has been peaceful since we dealt with the Black Knight, though strange rumors have been drifting out of Keralon.

We were escorted down into the cavernous lair of Velora Morenthane. The great dragon ruler welcomed us but was notoriously pragmatic. When Gael laid out King Ulther’s terrifying plan to merge Keralon with the Feywild, Velora listened intently but refused outright military aid. We simply don't have a concrete, long-term plan yet, and Gael had to admit as much. However, she didn't leave us empty-handed. While she won't send an army, she agreed to supply us with weapons and armor, and promised to absolutely refuse passage to any of Ulther’s troops through her territory.

Before we left, Alistan asked about Klaus, the legendary dragon spirit bonded to the knights of the Long Table. Velora’s eyes darkened. She explained that Klaus made the mistake of binding with a mortal, and he is paying the price to this day—he has been twisted into an undead abomination, eternally chained to Keralon. She then cast a very subtle, very pointed look at Alistan and his bond with Galiene. A warning, loud and clear.

---

From Latebra Velora, we journeyed three days to Arca Valon, a newly established elven settlement nearby. It is the dead of winter, yet as we entered the Lorewood, the trees were vibrant green. The Feywild’s magic is bleeding so heavily into the Material Plane that it's rewriting the seasons.

We stumbled upon a hidden elven patrol across a creek. Gael, ever our diplomat in the woods, approached them and introduced us. Their scout, Thalcor, offered to escort us. The village of Arca Valon is roughly the size of Tarn but humming with expansion. Right in the center stands a massive gate carved with elven runes—their doorway to the Feywild.

We were brought before Lord Eldrinthas, a ruler whose age is entirely unreadable, seated on a throne woven with forest motifs. His hall was a flurry of scribes and scholars. Thalcor introduced us as the "Keralon rebels from the south."

We established a tentative trade agreement—our metals for their wood and food. Eldrinthas revealed a fascinating piece of planar politics: they hail from Valanoris, a kingdom in the *proper* Feywild. Neverhold—Ulther's domain—is merely a demi-plane within it. In an ancient war, Valanoris actually defeated Ulther and pushed him back.
When we explained Ulther’s scheme for Keralon, Eldrinthas looked genuinely disturbed. If Ulther gains Keralon, he gains a massive, highly trained army, and his gaze will almost certainly turn back to Valanoris. Still, elves are isolationists; it's highly unlikely they will march an army onto the Material Plane to help us prevent it.

---

They gave us a half-built house to rest in for the night. I set up my magical alarms, craving a peaceful sleep.

But there is no peace for me.

In the dead of night, I "woke" to find a chair in the middle of the room with a note resting on it: *Sit down.* The alarms hadn't tripped. Gael and Alistan were still on guard outside, completely unaware. As if compelled by a magic I couldn't resist, I sat.

Instantly, the half-built wooden walls dissolved, replaced by the towering bookshelves of my own library. Amarra was waiting for me.

She didn't come to apologize. She held up a glowing, swirling sphere of pure, contained storm. The Elemental Heart of Air. She told me, without a shred of remorse, that she had destroyed the ancient, floating giant keep to claim it.

She demanded the other three hearts.
I refused.
Her eyes turned as cold as the void. She told me she would wait until we were at our absolute weakest. She told me she would come and take them, and she would kill us if she had to.

I looked my former mentor in the eye and refused her again.

I woke up on the hard wooden floor of the elven house, drenched in a cold sweat, my heart hammering against my ribs. Ulther wants to steal our world, but it's Amarra who truly terrifies me. I know how she thinks. I know how powerful she is.

And now, she is hunting us.

— Luke

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Dragons and Elves

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