Twelve years had passed.

  since the day Sarya had spoken with Alara.

  Sarya wore her light yet durable leather armor, a spear on her back, her red hair braided in a long root braid reaching her waist.

  She walked along the main road that led to the entrance of the Whispering Village.

  — Look there, Sarya, the Autumn Huntress. I heard she managed to synchronize herself with the Hidden Path of Autumn.

  — Really? The shimmering aura of Autumn?

  — I thought only the Patriarch had reached that stage among the Autumn elves.

  — And Valen? He is the Prince of Autumn. He must have reached that level too, or maybe even higher.

  — I wouldn’t doubt it. He is the Patriarch’s son.

  — But he has never beaten Sarya. Everyone says she will be the next leader of the Autumn elves.

  — Don’t be silly. Valen is the Prince. He will be the one. Besides, she only cares about books and killing, she has no interest in being a leader.

  — I think she only reads about assassination methods or torture.

  — Actually she only reads those books about human heroes and human romance stories.

  — Don’t lie. She doesn’t look like someone who reads heroic tales and romantic human stories.

  — Appearances deceive. And what’s wrong with that? She’s a girl after all. All of us dream about finding a prince to carry us on a beautiful mount.

  — Valen carrying me in his arms… those broad shoulders, charming and handsome.

  — The Prince of Autumn should look at me just once.

  — Hey, you talk too much. Why don’t you go back to guarding and your duties?

  — Sorry!

  The girls quickly scattered.

  Sarya walked toward a carriage that had been sent to pick them up.

  — A human coachman?

  — Yes, madam. My name is Sir Finarp, at your service. I am the butler of the Fernandes and was sent to pick you up for the festival in the capital Sorriso.

  — Pick us up?

  Finarp opened the carriage door.

  Valen was already inside.

  The girls looked from afar with shining eyes.

  One jealous of Sarya.

  Others cheering, because they liked romance and wanted to pair the strongest of Autumn together.

  Others fainted with excitement.

  Finarp sighed.

  — Mama mia… these beautiful ladies are reading too many romances, madam. The warrior princess and the charming prince have arrived it seems.

  — Don’t mind them. They are just emotional, drunk on their fantasies and emotions.

  She entered the carriage.

  Valen winked before Finarp closed the door.

  The girls screamed.

  Finarp sighed.

  — Such a conceited Lafayette. Surely reads human romances thinking he is the last fruit in the basket.

  — I heard that, coachman.

  — Perdón, Enchanted of Autumn.

  — Don’t mock me. You speak in a funny way, tongue-tied.

  Finarp cracked the whip and the horses burst forward at insane speed.

  Valen flipped inside the carriage.

  — Hey! That was on purpose, tongue-tied!

  — It is not tongue-tied, sir. It is called an enchanted accent.

  — A reader of human romances should know that.

  — The elf seems to have noticed it is a human accent. You do not seem to be a dedicated reader of human romances… only a casual reader.

  — Shut up! You were sent to take us to Sorriso. Do your role in silence!

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  — Boring, pretending to be a romance author.

  — I’m not pretending… I am one.

  — Sarya, use Crimson Silence on this annoying coachman!

  — You are the one being annoying, Valen.

  — Acting convincingly like a dedicated reader of human books when in truth you only skim them cannot fool someone who truly loves books like the coachman.

  — Bingo, madam. Without a doubt you read many human books.

  Finarp snapped his fingers and a small book appeared beside Sarya as if it came from a magical bookshelf.

  — Take it, madam. One of my babies. Fourth edition of the heroine Nidrel.

  Sarya’s eyes lit up.

  — Nidrel?

  — So humans also write about elven heroes?

  Finarp smiled proudly.

  — Of course, madam. True lovers of stories have no borders. We do not remain prisoners of foolish prejudice.

  He crossed his arms.

  — This book… I wrote it during my vacations.

  Valen snorted.

  — A coachman writer…

  Finarp continued.

  — I worked very hard to write this story. I collected stories, rumors and myths about Nidrel.

  — I almost died several times, madam. Many elves tried to kill me.

  — There were many challenges.

  He gave a theatrical smile.

  — And one detail, madam… the adventurer who crosses all the challenges in this story… is me.

  — The adventurer Finarp.

  Sarya raised an eyebrow.

  — Many things are truths. Others I created during my adventures.

  He pointed to the book.

  — But one thing does not change.

  — Elaryn Nidrel was a great warrior.

  — The first bearer of Indomina, the indomitable aura.

  — The first to awaken a true aura.

  He sighed.

  — It is a shame no one awakened this aura again, madam.

  — I would like to see Indomina in its full splendor.

  Finarp then looked at Sarya.

  — But I must say something.

  — The description of her appearance.

  — Red hair.

  — Freckles on the face.

  — Long braid to the waist.

  — Warrior posture.

  — Stunning beauty.

  He smiled.

  — Looks very much like you, madam.

  Valen stood up furious.

  — Hey! Don’t flirt with Sarya, coachman! I’ll get you!

  Sarya sighed.

  — Crimson Silence.

  Valen opened his mouth.

  No sound came out.

  He kept talking, but no sound came.

  Finarp tipped his hat.

  — Thank you, madam.

  He looked back to Sarya.

  — If I were in my adventures now… I would say the madam is Elaryn Nidrel herself.

  The horses continued running.

  Finarp spoke calmly.

  — These are Lightning-Step horses.

  — And this carriage…

  He tapped the side of the carriage.

  — Belongs to one of Kyros’ sons.

  — Sent by the Patriarch himself to pick you up.

  — Soon we will arrive in Sorriso, madam.

  The capital of the South.

  And the place where Sarya would see something…

  for the first time.

  ---

  The carriage continued racing down the road.

  The wind passed through the Autumn trees, lifting golden leaves that danced in the air.

  Sarya held the small book in her hands.

  She looked at the cover for a few seconds.

  Then began flipping through the pages.

  Valen kept complaining.

  Gesturing.

  Pointing.

  Talking nonstop.

  But no sound came out.

  Crimson Silence was still active.

  Only he could hear his own voice.

  Sarya ignored him completely.

  She kept reading.

  After a few minutes she slowly closed the book.

  — Finarp.

  — Oui, madam?

  — Where is the ending?

  Finarp looked over his shoulder.

  — The ending?

  — Nidrel’s story.

  — The book ends before the final battle.

  Finarp gave a small laugh.

  — Ah…

  He raised a finger.

  — That is because the madam is reading the fourth edition.

  Sarya tilted her head slightly.

  — The fifth edition has not been published yet.

  — I am still writing it.

  Valen continued complaining behind them.

  — That lying coachman—

  No sound.

  Finarp smiled.

  — Merci, madam.

  He continued.

  — You see…

  — To write this story I traveled a lot.

  — I spoke with elves.

  — Adventurers.

  — Old soldiers.

  — Merchants.

  — I collected stories.

  — Rumors.

  — Myths.

  — I even traveled to the Sky Island. It was difficult, but I succeeded, madam.

  — I had to pay terrible tributes.

  — To research the hero Lukan, the failure of Caelum.

  — Caelum?

  — Oui, madam. Caelum, the Sky Island.

  — I will send you the editions about Lukan, madam, since I see you have interest.

  — Completely free, madam.

  Valen continued gesturing furiously trying to warn Sarya.

  But no sound came out.

  Finarp pointed to the book in Sarya’s hand.

  — Some things are facts.

  — Others are legends.

  — And some…

  He shrugged.

  — I reconstructed them as a writer.

  Sarya spoke calmly.

  — So what happened to Lukan?

  Finarp took a deep breath.

  — According to the reports…

  — Lukan and Nidrel fought together against the Jade Komodo Dragon.

  — A monstrous creature.

  — Emerald green scales.

  — Harder than diamonds.

  — A true disaster.

  The wind blew strongly.

  — The battle was brutal.

  — They say Lukan lost an arm during the fight.

  — Even so he continued fighting.

  Sarya listened silently.

  — The dragon was eventually sealed.

  — Inside a dungeon.

  — A deep abyss.

  She asked:

  — And Lukan?

  Finarp sighed.

  — They say he was dying.

  — Nidrel held him in her arms.

  — And it was there…

  — That he finally confessed.

  Finarp’s voice softened.

  — He said his only regret…

  — Was not saying it before.

  — Out of fear of being rejected.

  — For being human.

  Valen was still arguing silently in the back of the carriage.

  Finarp continued.

  — They say he also took a small keychain from his belt.

  — A little cangaceiro hat.

  Sarya raised her eyes.

  — And he spoke of a legend.

  — That if a keychain like that were cared for with affection…

  — With feeling.

  — With desire.

  — A Lumpa could be born.

  Finarp raised two fingers.

  — One wish for the one who gives.

  — One for the one who receives.

  He continued.

  — His wish was simple.

  — To meet Nidrel again.

  — No matter the time.

  — No matter the era.

  — He believed someone compatible with his essence would be born.

  Sarya tightened her grip on the book.

  Finarp continued.

  — They say he also said…

  — That when he met her again…

  — He would place a ring on her finger.

  — They would hunt together.

  — And have a child.

  His voice lowered.

  — And then…

  — He died.

  Silence filled the carriage.

  Sarya asked calmly.

  — And Nidrel?

  Finarp answered.

  — According to the stories…

  — She did not respond.

  Sarya frowned.

  — Why?

  — Because at that moment…

  — They say she could not speak.

  — Her vocal cords had been destroyed.

  — She could not say she loved him too.

  Sarya remained still.

  Finarp continued.

  — Lukan was buried on Mount Nidrel.

  — And years later…

  — Nidrel also died.

  — And was buried beside him.

  The wind passed through the trees.

  — They say every year…

  — On the anniversary of the day she first saw him…

  — She returned to the grave.

  — She cried.

  — And said:

  — “I miss you, idiot.”

  — “Happy birthday.”

  Sarya stared at the book silently.

  Then she asked:

  — And her wish?

  Finarp smiled.

  — Guess, madam.

  — To meet Lukan again.

  Finarp opened a wide smile.

  — Bingo, madam.

  — I knew the madam was a dedicated reader.

  — One who understands human romances.

  Suddenly…

  Noise.

  Shouting.

  A crowd.

  The carriage began to slow down.

  Finarp raised his hands.

  — Mama mia!

  — The Seventh Trial has already begun!

  He pulled the reins.

  — I will take you to the Autumn elves’ entrance gate!

  The carriage crossed through the crowd.

  Sarya looked out the window.

  The city was gigantic.

  Colorful.

  Full of life.

  Stalls.

  Merchants.

  Artists.

  Then she saw something curious.

  Small stands selling…

  little cangaceiro hat keychains.

  And piles of books.

  With the name written on the cover:

  FINARP

  Sarya spoke calmly.

  — Your books…

  — are famous.

  Finarp smiled proudly.

  He stopped the carriage.

  Got down.

  Opened the door.

  And made a theatrical bow.

  — Voilà.

  He opened his arms.

  — Welcome to the capital of the South.

  — Sorriso.

  — The capital of dreams.

  He smiled.

  — The place…

  — where legends are born.

  — Finarp, it was good meeting you. I look forward to the editions you promised me about Lukan.

  Sarya tossed a gold reis toward Finarp.

  — I humbly thank you, madam.

  — I, Finarp, swear the editions of the hero Lukan will reach your hands… and as a bonus the fifth edition of Nidrel’s final battle.

  — I will wait, Finarp. The dedicated reader edition.

  Finarp had gained his first loyal elven reader.

  Sarya took her first step into the city.

  Without knowing that in that place…

  her destiny…

  was about to change.

  End of Chapter 10.