The forest thickened as they travelled, the trees growing impossibly wide and tall, their trunks wrapped in glowing moss that pulsed softly like breath. The ground beneath them grew uneven, softening into tangled roots and damp earth.

  Kurai walked ahead in silence, his eyes scanning the treeline like he expected to be followed. He moved with purpose—but also tension, like the path itself might betray him.

  Astrid trudged behind him, boots catching on hidden roots, her thoughts spiralling.

  Great. Now I'm following the mysterious fire guy into some seriously haunted woods. Charlie would have a field day with this.

  She tightened her grip on her useless phone, the weight of it comforting, even if it couldn't save her now.

  "Where are we going?" she asked for the third time, brushing a hanging vine from her face. "You said somewhere safe."

  Kurai didn't look back. "We are. If they haven't sealed the entrance."

  She frowned. "'They' being...?"

  "Elves. These guys hate the council almost as much as dwarves do."

  She stopped walking. Elves? Like the guys with pointy ears? Is that what those people were back in the village? Her head swirled. First magic, now elves? A magical Council? What has she gotten herself into?

  Charlie always said don't trust strangers. Don't follow them into creepy woods. Yeah, like I can talk right now.

  "Hurry up," Kurai called, snapping her out of it. She ran to catch up.

  They reached what looked like the base of an enormous tree, thicker than a house. Kurai stepped forward.

  "Here we are," he said.

  Astrid stared up at the bark, blinking. "Umm... what?"

  Kurai glanced over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "It's a hidden city."

  "Ohh, okay," she muttered, unsure if he was messing with her.

  He lifted a hand and placed it on the tree's surface, hesitating for just a second—like it hurt to do it. A soft pulse spread out beneath his palm, light blooming under his fingers. Then he stepped back.

  "Okay. Let's do this," he whispered—to himself, not her.

  Astrid studied his face. *What was that?*

  Then she looked at the bark. It was shifting. Twisting. Curling away from his touch, forming an archway. A doorway carved by magic.

  Okay. That's kinda cool.

  They descended into the roots—down a winding spiral of bioluminescent steps that glowed with violet light. The air changed as they walked: cooler, dense with earthy moisture and the faint scent of flowers. It smelled like fresh moss and petrichor. Above them, tiny glowing insects danced around lanterns carved from crystal petals.

  And then the tunnel opened.

  The path spilled into a cavern so massive Astrid stopped in her tracks.

  The city wasn't built in the cavern. It was grown into it. Bridges of living wood arched over glowing underground lakes, and homes spiralled out of root systems and crystalline growths. The air shimmered, thick with the quiet hum of magic. It smelled ancient—earthy, rich, alive.

  Elves moved with elegance, cloaked in flowing garments that sparkled faintly like dew under moonlight. Some had glowing tattoos; others had eyes that shimmered with colours that didn't exist in her world.

  They were hauntingly beautiful. Ethereal. Unreal.

  It was quiet.

  Then heads began to turn.

  Conversations faltered. A hush fell over the crowd. And all eyes landed on her.

  "God this was a bad idea" he muttered to himself.

  An older elf in armor woven from silverleaf and shadow approached. His expression flickered the moment he saw Kurai.

  "Kurai. You shouldn't be here."

  "Neither should the Enforcers," Kurai said, voice level. "But they're coming. And we need sanctuary."

  Stolen story; please report.

  The elf's eyes cut to Astrid; his stare sharp. "So, you'll endanger us again? You've never been very bright."

  "You lot still owe me one remember?" Kurai replied.

  Murmurs stirred in the crowd.

  "Is that Kurai?"

  "What's he doing back here?"

  "How dare he step foot in here again."

  Tension buzzed like a spell charging in the air. Astrid could feel it—thick, electric, crawling over her skin.

  "Lucky, we remember our oaths Kurai," the elf muttered.

  Kurai's voice lowered. "Whatever."

  They were led into the city.

  The deeper they went, the brighter the magic became. Lanterns shaped like butterflies floated over walkways. Music drifted softly in the air—melodic, almost mournful. The warmth from the cavern's glow made it feel like afternoon, not underground.

  They reached a secluded alcove overlooking a luminous lake. The elven guard told them to wait.

  Kurai stood at the edge, his back to her, watching the water.

  "You grew up here?" she asked.

  "For a time."

  She stepped closer. "What happened?"

  Kurai didn't turn. His reflection in the lake shimmered—his golden eyes glowing faintly in the water.

  "Me."

  She didn't press. Not now. She had enough on her plate already.

  Eventually, the elf returned.

  "You can stay. For now," he said. "One night. No more. And she doesn't leave your side."

  Kurai nodded. "Understood."

  The elf turned to her. "Don't touch anything. And don't speak unless spoken to."

  Astrid nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

  Once he was gone, she exhaled. "Charming hospitality."

  "That was generous," Kurai replied.

  Okay. Safe to say they're not friends.

  After the elf delivered his conditions and vanished into the glow, another guard appeared—silent and sharp-eyed—and gestured for them to follow.

  The path wound through quieter tunnels now, deeper and more enclosed. The air grew cooler, denser with floral scent and something else—like old stone and memories. They passed fewer people. Those they did pass stared.

  No one greeted them.

  Astrid stayed close to Kurai. Not because she trusted him exactly—but because she didn't trust anyone else.

  The guard stopped at a low archway framed with roots and crystals. A sliding panel of woven bark creaked open at his touch.

  "Your quarters," he said flatly. "Try to behave, will you? I'll tell the elder you're here."

  Then he left, boots echoing down the corridor.

  Astrid stepped inside and froze.

  The space was... beautiful. But strange.

  One wall shimmered with a gentle bioluminescent glow, like moonlight trapped behind leaves. The floor was layered with soft moss and bark-woven rugs. A low table sat in the center, carved from crystal and twisted wood. In the far corner: two sleeping pallets—one slightly raised, the other low to the ground, surrounded by sheer drapes of translucent fabric.

  "No doors, huh?" she muttered.

  Kurai shrugged and walked past her, tossing his satchel onto the higher cot.

  "Modesty's not high on the list down here."

  "Right... who needs privacy," she said, hands on hips, sarcasm thick.

  He didn't answer. Just sat down, rubbing his temples like the day was finally catching up to him.

  Astrid wandered to the wall and brushed her fingers across the glow. It pulsed faintly under her touch—cool and soft, like the surface of a jellyfish.

  "This place is weird," she said. "Weird but pretty."

  Still no answer.

  She turned. Kurai sat with his elbows on his knees, head bowed, hair shadowing his face. For once, he looked... tired. Not guarded. Not sharp-edged. Just a guy in a strange place, same as her.

  "Hey," she said gently. "Thanks again. With those big guys in Armor, I thought I was toast."

  He glanced up. "Didn't do it for you."

  She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Just saving your own skin. Lone wolf type. I get it."

  A faint smirk tugged at his mouth, but he said nothing.

  She took the lower pallet. It was firmer than she expected, but it smelled like crushed petals and clean earth. Familiar in a way she couldn't explain.

  She lay back for a moment, staring up at the root-woven ceiling, watching the soft lights ripple.

  Home felt a million miles away.

  But maybe—just maybe—she could survive this.

  "So umm about getting me home?" she broke the silence.

  She heard him groan "Wait till we see the old man alright, you can pester him"

  Then with a start Kurai stood suddenly. "Come on. You need new clothes."

  She blinked. "Now?"

  "You stand out too much. I don't need more staring. Besides being stuck in here with you is going to make time feel even longer"

  He was already halfway to the exit.

  Astrid sat up with a groan. "No rest for the weird and unmagical I guess."

  By the time they reached the inner market, the cavern had shifted from strange to almost... cozy.

  Music played—light and lilting, the kind that drifted like perfume. It came from slender instruments with too many strings, played by elven musicians perched on twisted roots above the crowd. The air buzzed with quiet conversation, the gentle clink of crystal cups, and the occasional puff of smoke from a vendor's stall.

  And the smells.

  Astrid's stomach tightened at the mix of sweet herbs, spiced bread, and something that reminded her of roasted chestnuts. For a moment, she was back home, wandering the night markets with Charlie, digging through handmade soaps and watching street performers juggle under fairy lights.

  Except here he shouldn't be surprised if they're actually being Faries above her.

  But Charlie wasn't here.

  Astrid shoved the thought down and kept walking.

  The market glowed with soft magic. Stalls were built into the trees, into the walls, into the very roots of the city. Lanterns floated overhead like tiny jellyfish, pulsing gently as if breathing. Some stalls sold glittering stones and enchanted trinkets. Others held steaming bowls of food that shimmered with enchantments—or creatures that definitely weren't from Earth. One stand had a cage full of puffball animals that giggled when poked.

  Astrid paused to watch one snort a puff of glitter.

  A soft tug at her sleeve made her jump. Kurai, expression unreadable, nodded her forward.

  "Stop gawking, you're standing out," he muttered.

  She gestured at herself. "Gee, I wonder why. It's almost like I got kidnapped into another dimension without time to pack."

  Kurai sighed through his nose. "We're getting you something less... this."

  "Wow. Way to compliment a girl."

  He didn't reply. Just steered her toward a stall draped in silk and glowing thread.

  An elven merchant glanced up—and instantly frowned. His gaze snapped to Astrid, then to Kurai, eyes narrowing.

  "She's not marked."

  "She's with me," Kurai said simply.

  The vendor held his stare for a moment. Then, surprisingly, he nodded.

  "I have something that might fit," he said, disappearing behind a curtain of vines and cloth.

  Astrid leaned close. "Does 'with me' mean bonded or branded or just not going to eat me?"

  "Shut up."

  She grinned. "So touchy."

  The vendor returned with a bundle of folded fabric—soft, layered, and shimmering like shadow under moonlight. Elven styling: asymmetrical cuts, flowing shapes, dark greens and grays that shifted in the light. Functional, but beautiful. There were arm wraps with hidden clasps and boots that looked like they could survive a war.

  "Changing room?" Astrid asked.

  The merchant pointed to a screen woven from bark and glassleaf. She ducked behind it.

  Inside, she caught her reflection in a sliver of polished crystal. For the first time since arriving, she didn't look completely lost. Still rough around the edges. Still tired. But maybe—just maybe—capable.

  She exhaled slowly. You'd like this, Charlie. You'd lose your mind over those floating lights.

  The ache returned in her chest, sharp and quiet. I'm trying to get back to you, kiddo. I promise.

  She stepped out.

  Kurai glanced at her—then quickly looked away.

  "You hate it?" she asked.

  "No."

  She smirked. "You hesitated."

  "You look... less like a target. That's all."

  But his voice was quieter than usual.

  She didn't know what she'd expected—but that wasn't it. Something about the way he said it made her chest ache.

  The merchant handed her a satchel of supplies without charge.

  Astrid frowned. "Wait—we didn't pay."

  The merchant shrugged. "If she's yours, the debt is yours."

  Kurai didn't blink. "Noted."

  Astrid looked between them. "Okay, I'm going to pretend that didn't sound weird and possibly ominous."

  They moved on.

  As they walked, the market lights warmed behind them. Astrid glanced sideways at Kurai, wondering—not for the first time—what his deal really was. Why he'd helped her. Why he kept doing it.

  There was something in the way he watched the shadows. Like he expected them to betray him. Like he belonged to them.

  As they walked, the market lights warmed behind them. Astrid glanced sideways at Kurai, wondering—not for the first time—what his deal really was. Why he'd helped her. Why he kept doing it.

  She didn't ask. What would be the point?

  He wasn't going to stay.

  That's when the elf guard who had shown them to their room found Kurai in the crowd. He said something to him, too quiet for Astrid to hear. Kurai nodded.

  Kurai kept his eyes on the crowd, but his hands were clenched tighter than usual. Like he was bracing for something.

  "Alright, come on. The old man wants to see us."