"And over there is the Rose Fountain," Emelda said, her hand gracefully gesturing toward a marble structure just meters ahead. "It's said to be over a thousand years old, and its waters are believed to possess healing properties strong enough to cure minor ailments."
"Some elves even claim its waters never run dry."
"Is that so?" Leo's right eye glimmered with curiosity as he stepped closer, taking in the fountain's design.
True to its name, the Rose Fountain resembled a blooming rose carved entirely from marble. Each petal was etched with runes—ancient and elegant, their meanings lost to most. Yet Leo's keen azure eye immediately locked onto something more than beauty.
"I can't believe it," he murmured. The runes—now glowing gold—flared so brightly that even his enchanted eye had to strain. Dozens of them shimmered with the elven symbol for "water," repeating endlessly, like a mantra of eternal flow. Still, nothing within the runes hinted at what sustained the fountain's unending stream.
"Is there a lake nearby?" he asked, squinting deeper into the fountain's structure.
Emelda, who had been silently watching his face the entire time, answered, "Not anymore. The only lake near the castle dried up long ago."
"That explains a lot," Leo muttered, but before he could elaborate, something else caught his attention—a small white light, barely visible beneath the golden brilliance. It pulsed steadily beneath the surface, resonating with the same subtle energy he had seen inside the dwarvenstone tower.
A mana source.
"Explains what exactly?" Emelda raised a brow, suspicious of his vague words.
Leo simply shrugged and patted Flower's head. The loyal hound yawned and nestled closer between them, maintaining a safe and socially acceptable distance.
"Nothing really," Leo said casually. "Maybe the water still seeps in from the underground bed of that old lake."
Emelda shook her head. "That's not it."
Then, with a playful sparkle in her eyes, she turned toward him. "Want to hear a story?"
Leo gave a nod, already intrigued.
"Long ago," she began, "a mighty blue dragon lived here—right where this castle stands today. Back then, elves lived in small, scattered clans. They kept to themselves, only gathering to trade or during festivals. It was a peaceful time... until the humans arrived."
"Arrived?" Leo raised a brow. That phrasing again—as though humanity had come from somewhere else entirely.
"Yes," Emelda confirmed. "I don't know if it's true, but ancient elven scrolls claim humans are not native to the Forever Realm. They came from another world. No one knows how."
She continued, "At first, there was tension, but over the decades, both races learned to coexist. Elves taught the humans magic and survival skills. In return, humans shared their technology and unique ideas. But peace like that never lasts, does it?"
Leo remained silent.
"A century later, war broke out," she said. "Humans claimed the elves were multiplying too fast and would soon overwhelm the land. Elves, on the other hand, believed humans wanted more land and couldn't stand sharing it with us—'pointies,' they called us."
Leo chuckled. "In your opinion, who started it?"
Emelda paused, hand on her chin. Then she shrugged, raising both hands. "Humans, obviously. And I'm not just saying that because I'm an elf. Historically speaking, humans tend to be the ones who start wars."
She raised a finger. "Whenever they encounter something they don't understand—"
Another finger joined it.
"—or something different from what they expect, they either destroy it or try to control it. They fear the unknown more than any other race."
"I might know why," Leo said softly, glancing up at the sky. "Out of all the races, humans live the shortest lives. Less time to accomplish goals... which often leads to ambition and desperation."
He turned back to her. "Only humans create sprawling empires. Kingdoms, conquest, deceit, war—these aren't accidents. They're symptoms. Because every human, deep down, dreams of standing above others."
A faint chuckle escaped his lips. "It's probably a good thing we live such short lives. Otherwise, the five realms would have been reduced to ash."
Emelda tilted her head, eyeing him with suspicion. "You keep saying 'humans'—never 'we.' Are you not one of them?"
Leo blinked. "What?"
She didn't press further. Instead, she leaned back and smiled.
"You're something else. An assassin trained to kill... but wise, thoughtful, even kind."
Leo rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks darkening a shade. Her face was just inches away now, her voice like a melody in the quiet courtyard. The moment grew heavy, and Flower stirred, sensing a shift in the air.
But just as something seemed about to happen—
"Where was I?" Emelda quickly pulled back, tapping her chin as if nothing had occurred.
"Ruff?" Flower let out a confused whine.
"The elves lost the first war badly," Emelda continued, her tone now more serious. "If not for a desperate retreat, they would've been wiped out. For decades afterward, minor skirmishes continued, but humans won nearly all of them.
"That's when the clans unified. Five great houses were formed, led by a legendary queen—one of my ancestors. Her name has been lost to time, but her deeds remain."
Emelda's eyes lit up as she told the tale.
"She led raids on human settlements, spreading terror with her warriors. But during one such raid, they were ambushed by humans and werewolf mercenaries. Her warriors were slaughtered, and she alone escaped."
Leo leaned forward.
"Wounded and desperate, she stumbled upon the blue dragon's lair. He was an ancient being, full of laughter and wisdom. He listened to her story... and agreed to help."
"With his magic, the elves fought back. They reclaimed lost lands, and peace returned—but only for a time."
Leo already sensed the twist coming.
"The humans returned with a new ally," Emelda said, her voice dropping. "The White Dragon."
Leo's eyes widened. Of course.
"The two dragons battled, but in the end, the blue dragon was slain. Yet before he died, he cast a spell using his soul, his blood pouring from every wound. With that final act, he formed an invisible barrier to protect this land—what we now call Elyria—from all dragon attacks."
"What happened to the white dragon?"
"Rumor says he was sealed away... until he returned centuries later to fight the Four Great Beasts."
Leo whistled softly. Draghyr again—always at the center of history's darkest moments.
"The queen, in gratitude, summoned alchemists from what is now the Leaf and constructed the Rose Fountain," Emelda concluded.
Leo looked down at the sculpture once more. "Let me guess—the rose was his favorite flower?"
Emelda smiled. "And the mana that sustains the fountain… comes from his heart."
Leo stood silently, offering a respectful bow toward the fountain. "Another beast... who gave everything for peace."
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