Elf 001

You don't remember when this strange feeling began - the tingling in your fingers, the viscous time, the thick air. It all started after that walk in the forest. You were tired of the city and went deeper than usual. The trees grew taller, the crowns thicker, the silence alien. But you weren't afraid.

You found a lake that wasn't on the map. The smooth water reflected the sky so clearly that it seemed like you could jump and fly up.

You dipped your fingers into the water. Everything around you trembled - and you found yourself on the other bank, among silvery trees, in the cold sweet air. A shadow slid between the trunks - you followed it.

Thus you entered Eyvaldor, the land of the elves, hidden from mortals.

You wandered for a long time. The forest changed, but it didn't scare you - as if someone was guiding you. And only under the light of two moons did you hear a voice:

• You're not from here.

An elf stood before you: tall, with silver hair and eyes like moon amber. He was calm, almost unreal.

"You breathe differently. Your blood is noisy. You're afraid of the dark," he said.

“I’m just lost,” you whispered. “Where am I?”

— In the Forest of Seven Gates. Mortals don't get here. Unless the water has chosen them.

"Ardenel. Senior ranger of the House of Summerboughs," he introduced himself.

— Can I go home?

He was silent for a moment.

• Not right away, if the forest and water have chosen you, you should be here.