Mmm… what a light… and such warmth…
I stretch and slowly open my eyes. I feel so much better!
Such a lovely warmth!
Mmm… and I'm starving!
Dorcha is setting a small table, and on it there's a sandwich that looks absolutely delicious, still warm and fragrant, walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds, and a herbal infusion whose scent is so rich I can smell it from here!
I can't resist—but first… a nice kiss for my savior! It's the least I can do as payment!
There, I plant it right on his cheek.
"Thank you! I'm so hungry!" I exclaim as I sit down and dive straight into the food.
Dorcha looks at me, rubbing his cheek.
He seems surprised.
"You look much better this morning."
-----
What are these sweet gestures supposed to be? Let's hope she doesn't have any more in store.
Look at her eating. Crumbs everywhere—she really is just a child.
Good thing the orc cook taught me how to conjure something edible with magic, or this would've been a problem.
"So… how did you end up here?" she asks suddenly. "I thought I was the only survivor of my kingdom."
What is she talking about?
"Your… kingdom?"
"Yes. Why—aren't you a Nuvolano too? Your skin doesn't shine, but…"
"A Nuvolano? Me? No. My parents are orcs."
"Orcs? Wow!… Then it's not true that you all have green skin and that… you're as tall as mountains?!"
What—where does she even get these ideas?
"Well—no, I mean—yes, it's… it's true. Just not me, obviously. I'm a bit different. The only one like this, actually, but it makes sense: I was adopted. Ahem… anyway… as tall as mountains might be a slight exaggeration."
"If you were adopted, I don't see why you couldn't have been born in Nuvolandia. In any case, I don't understand—if you live in the Storm Realm, what were you doing in the Elven Realm?"
Here we are. Moment of truth. Let's hope she buys the story.
"I'm traveling."
"Where to?"
Does she ever stop asking questions? I'm already tired of this.
"To my homeland. Where else?"
She keeps nibbling on a walnut, then looks at me strangely. Her expression is… unfamiliar. I can't quite name it. What does she want now?
"You're not offended, are you? Sorry. I know I ask too many questions, but I'm curious! We're friends now—I'd like to know you better."
Friends. And why exactly would we be? For some reason, a smile slips out. Let's keep the act going.
"It's fine. I'm just a bit worried."
"Huh? About what?"
"When the ground shook a few days ago, I was in the woods studying herbs. The tremors lasted a long time. I hate to admit it, but I was scared. And now I'm anxious."
She looks confused. I should explain.
"My family. I'm afraid something happened back in my realm."
Her expression darkens.
"Not in your realm. In mine. Nuvolandia has been petrified."
Here we go. Let's see how much she really knows. I pretend ignorance.
"Petrified? What do you mean?"
"That everything turned to stone—objects, plants, animals, people. But I don't think it happened where you're from. The mountains linking Nuvolandia to the Storm Realm were normal when I left. Anyway… why was a Nuvolano adopted by orcs?"
She's insisting. What does she want from me?!
"Again with this. Why would I be a Nuvolano?" I snap.
I'm angry, but she doesn't flinch. She's convinced.
"There's no 'why,' you just are. Without a doubt. You said you're not an elf, right? You're tall but not like a troll or an orc, you're lean, light-colored, and you don't have wings. So what else could you be? I think you're… a Chosen One. Like me."
A Nuvolano. A Chosen One. She's lost her mind—there's no other explanation.
"What are you talking about? I don't understand."
"Well… it's like this…"
-----
I decide to trust him and tell him everything. We're friends now—I want him to know.
He looks worried. He really must have been scared… he must truly care about his parents. I feel so sorry for him. How can I comfort him?
I hug him without thinking.
A hug is the best medicine—at least, it always makes me feel better.
"Come on, we'll make it," I say softly. "Your parents are fine, I'm sure of it! I told you—the mountain was normal! And besides… Aeltiàfisar will know what to do, he definitely will! We'll save everyone. Mine—and if it were ever needed, though it won't be—even yours!"
-----
Why is she so enthusiastic?
For a moment, I almost feel guilty for deceiving her. Now she even wants to save my parents too…
Enough, Dorcha. Get a grip.
She has no idea what really happened. None at all.
Alright. I'll try to explain the situation—at least partially.
"When I was little, I read a legend," I say. "It said that if the seal of the Guardian Realm were ever destroyed, the realm itself would be petrified. And from what you told me…"
She falls silent. Then it clicks. She looks at me, stunned.
"That makes sense! The Sigillum Maximum turned to dust!"
Perfect. She's following. I nod and continue.
"According to the story, from the moment the Scroll was destroyed, the world would have only seven magical months left. One week equals a season, one month equals an entire year—that was the key. But…"
"But what?"
"It also said there was hope."
"What hope?"
"That one of the guardians could restore the seal before the deadline."
She looks lost.
"Wait… are you saying that in seven months I'll be twenty? …And you?"
"Twenty-four."
"That's insane… But who is this guardian who can recreate the seal? Where do we find them?"
Is she serious? She still hasn't figured it out? By the lightning of storms—she really is clueless.
"I don't know… Look, you need to find this Aeltiàfisar. He'll definitely clear things up. You're better now, right? Maybe it's time to get moving. The sun is already high."
"Yes, you're right," she says, then rushes to look outside.
She turns back toward me. That expression again—what now?
"That story must be true… Yesterday it was freezing cold, and today it already feels like spring!"
Spring? No. That's not possible. Not this fast. I rush outside too. Damn it—it's true.
"Then we don't have time to waste. Let's go!"
"Why? You're coming with me?"
"Yes. You said the mountain was normal, right?"
"So?"
"So my parents are fine. You, on the other hand, just recovered… and you don't exactly seem skilled with flowers, berries, trees, or roots. If you want to find the elf, it's better if I come with you."
Her face lights up—again.
"Thank you!" she exclaims.
Great. I've turned into a babysitter.
We set off… on foot.
I told her, "Get on my horse. Hercules is fast—we'll save time!" But no. Not her. She won't ride horses. "The journey could be long, the horse might get too tired! You know, horses struggle to carry people… they're intelligent, sensitive creatures, to be treated as friends, not burdened with weight."
The horse. He might get tired. Me? Who cares about me, right? After all, she's alive only because of me. But as long as Hercules is calm and comfortable, that's what matters. Incredible. We're wasting precious time.
At least she walks fast. I'll give her that.
And… in her own way, she's not bad. So determined.
I wonder how I would've reacted if Bàistec and Urchoicha had been petrified. Honestly? I probably wouldn't have cared this much. I would've sat on the throne and that would've been that.
"What do you actually know about this elf?" I ask, breaking the silence.
"Nothing. Just that his name is Aeltiàfisar and that he's called…"
"…the Knight of the Golden Light. Yes, you already told me that. And?"
She shrugs.
"Nothing else. Just that he should live somewhere around here; in a place that shines, Adalberto said. Where that place is, though…"
Of course. We're basically wandering blind.
"Wonderful. Great directions! This will be so easy! Let's just hope the elves are hospitable!"
"Oh, they are! My parents told me many times they always had a wonderful relationship with the elves. We won't have any problems, you'll see."
She gestures cheerfully, completely confident. Hm. Let's hope so…
I wonder how my son is doing.
After all, it's his first truly important mission.
I still remember the first wooden sword I gave him.
From the very beginning, he showed his worth.
On his first day at camp, those stupid little orcs thought they could mock him. I didn't allow it. I trained him myself. He cried. He suffered. But day after day, I watched his tears turn into fire, shyness into strength, fear into courage.
After that, no one dared challenge him again.
Of course, I must admit my dear wife's conditioning spells played their part… but in the end, Dorcha became my perfect heir.
I can't wait to know how it's going.
Here I am.
"So? How is it progressing?"
Urchoicha is staring into a basin filled with water. She looks worried. I'm impatient.
"Hm… I don't know. I don't like it. It looks like it's weakening."
She gestures for me to come closer. "Look there!"