The road to the Elven Kingdom was longer than Lucius expected.
He had imagined it would be a swift journey, but traveling across the lush expanse of Carin's wildlands was tedious. Towering trees, meandering streams, and the persistent hum of distant wildlife surrounded him. The occasional rustle in the underbrush was a reminder that this world held unseen dangers, even if the novel never explicitly mentioned them.
Still, Lucius pressed on, accompanied only by the soft padding of his dragon's steps behind him—and the quiet, invisible presence of Karl.
They traveled mostly at dawn and dusk, avoiding the watchful eyes of patrolling guards and the occasional wandering merchants. The Valehart estate was far from the elven border, and few outsiders dared to venture so deep without permission.
Lucius's lips barely parted as he whispered, "Keep to the shadows."
Karl's black scales shimmered faintly, folding into the invisibility granted by his Veilborn nature. No creature nearby could detect the dragon's presence. Only Lucius could see his familiar's faint outline—a dark silhouette blending perfectly with the twilight.
The dragon's silent agreement was all Lucius needed.
By the time they neared the great gates of the Elven Kingdom, the sky had turned a gentle violet. The ancient walls loomed before them, elegant and towering, intertwined with creeping ivy and glowing faintly with magical wards.
"Humans don't often come this far," Karl's voice echoed silently in Lucius's mind—a rare breach of his usual quiet. The tone was almost amused.
Lucius said nothing. He slipped through a side entrance barely large enough for a person, hidden behind a thick veil of enchanted mist.
Inside, the Elven Kingdom was breathtaking.
Structures carved from white marble and ancient trees blended seamlessly, and soft golden lights floated lazily through the air. Elves, tall and graceful, moved with a quiet dignity that only centuries of life could grant. Lucius's footsteps made no sound. He was a ghost.
He headed straight to the Wind of the God — the final Pillar he needed to unlock.
The path was hidden beneath a grove of sacred trees, their branches entwined like fingers guarding a secret. At the center stood a slender silver tree, its leaves shimmering with an ethereal light. It was unlike any tree he had ever seen.
Lucius knelt and reached into his pack, producing a small offering — a bundle of dried herbs and fresh spring water, just as the novel described.
He placed the offerings at the tree's base and closed his eyes.
A faint breeze stirred, and then the ground beneath him vibrated gently.
The magic within the Wind of the God awakened.
A rush of power surged through Lucius's veins — swift, light, and alive. His senses sharpened to an extraordinary degree, the world's sounds and colors intensifying.
He opened his eyes.
The air around him shimmered briefly, and Karl's familiar form solidified beside him for a moment, whispering a single phrase, "Human… you are still weak. But this… is a beginning."
Lucius nodded, though no one else could see or hear.
He slipped away as silently as he had come, returning to the shadows.
Back through the gates, back into the wilds, back to the safety of Valehart lands.
No one saw him. No one suspected.
Not Rowan.
Not the knights.
Not the servants.
Only Karl knew.
And that was exactly how Lucius wanted it.
He would keep this power a secret, a quiet edge beneath his calm exterior.
Because sometimes, true strength was best hidden.