The entire village seemed to awaken with the arrival of night. Lilith stood outside the guest residence for a few moments, quietly taking in the sight.
"It feels..." she searched for the right word. "...peaceful."
Atheline joined her on the wooden balcony that wrapped around the living tree serving as their temporary home.
"It does." He smiled faintly. "I’ve visited kingdoms and so have you, but nowhere quite like this."
The residence itself had fascinated him from the moment they entered since it had grown.
The walls were part of the enormous tree itself, polished smooth without a single cut mark. Large windows curved naturally with the grain of the wood, while flowering vines climbed along the interior ceiling, releasing a delicate fragrance that filled the room.
Everything had been shaped by nature itself. Even the famed high Elven architecture could not compare to this.
A gentle knock came from the entrance. Before either of them could respond, the woven doorway slowly unfolded like the petals of a flower.
Several young fairies entered carrying trays of food. They bowed politely before placing everything upon a low wooden table.
One of them smiled shyly.
"Lady Lyria asked us to make sure our guests were comfortable."
Lilith returned the smile.
"You have our thanks."
The young fairy’s eyes widened slightly. She clearly hadn’t expected her to speak so gently. After another respectful bow, the group quietly departed. The doorway folded closed behind them once more.
The meal itself was unlike anything either ruler had seen. Fresh fruits shimmered with faint traces of natural Aether. Warm bread carried the fragrance of wild herbs.
There were delicate soups prepared from forest vegetables neither of them recognized. Honey, clearer than crystal, rested in small carved bowls. Even the tea glowed softly beneath the lantern light.
Atheline sampled a small piece of bread. His eyebrows rose.
"This is remarkable."
Lilith nodded after tasting the soup.
"The ingredients are simple, but the quality is extraordinary."
Everything carried the freshness of food harvested only moments earlier. There were no heavy spices masking flavors. Each ingredient simply tasted... perfect.
"It makes sense."
Atheline looked toward the window.
"They’ve lived in isolation for generations. They’ve had centuries to perfect cultivation rather than expansion."
Lilith smiled.
"They also don’t seem interested in excess."
Indeed, the meal wasn’t extravagant.
After dinner, they decided to explore before retiring for the evening. The pathways remained lively. Fairy children chased floating lights between the trees, laughing whenever the glowing orbs darted just beyond their reach.
Groups of musicians sat beneath flowering branches, playing instruments carved from living wood whose melodies blended naturally with the sounds of flowing water.
Artisans continued weaving fabrics that shimmered like morning dew. Others carefully tended gardens despite the late hour.
Nobody appeared hurried or burdened. The village moved at its own quiet rhythm.
As Lilith and Atheline walked through the settlement, many fairies paused to greet them. Some bowed respectfully while others simply smiled. Several elderly fairies watched them with openly curious expressions; none seemed fearful.
Atheline quietly noticed the difference.
"They accepted us surprisingly quickly."
Lilith nodded.
"I expected considerably more caution."
An elderly fairy seated beside a flowering pond overheard them. He chuckled softly.
"Our people have always believed actions reveal character far better than appearances."
The old fairy gestured toward the surrounding village.
"You reached us, but you harmed nothing. You crossed the Veil, but you didn’t destroy it. You’ve walked among our homes, but you haven’t treated them as treasures to seize." He smiled warmly. "That tells us much."
Atheline inclined his head respectfully.
"A wise philosophy."
The old fairy laughed.
"It has served us well."
Continuing onward, they reached a large open square near the center of the village. Unlike the quiet pathways, this area bustled with activity.
Children flew freely overhead; not all of them were small. Many adult fairies were roughly the same height as humans.
Others stood well over two meters tall, their elegant wings spanning nearly the width of the square. Several of the tallest fairies worked alongside smaller ones without the slightest distinction.
Lilith quietly observed the variety.
"It seems the stories outside were inaccurate."
Atheline smiled.
"They usually described fairies as tiny creatures sitting on flowers."
A nearby woman overheard him and laughed.
"We’ve heard that story." She spread her broad emerald wings. "I assure you... flowers become rather uncomfortable once you grow taller."
Even Lilith couldn’t suppress a quiet laugh.
The little fox, meanwhile, had become something of a local celebrity. A dozen fairy children surrounded her. One brushed her tail, and another scratched behind her ears.
The fox rolled onto her back with shameless enthusiasm, happily accepting every bit of attention.
Atheline folded his arms.
"I believe we’ve been replaced."
Lilith watched the scene with amusement.
"I don’t think she intends to leave."
The fox glanced toward them briefly, then promptly returned to enjoying her admirers.
Eventually their wandering brought them to the edge of the village where a magnificent tree rose above everything else.
Its trunk dwarfed even the surrounding giants. Thousands of luminous blossoms bloomed among its branches, illuminating the night sky like a second constellation.
Atheline looked upward.
"...What tree is this? It looks almost like a world tree."
A gentle voice answered behind them.
"It’s not a world tree."
They turned. Lyria approached quietly, her silver-green hair reflecting the glow of countless flowers. She smiled gently.
"Our ancestors planted this after arriving. It reminds us of what we lost."
Lilith looked back toward the enormous tree.
"So your homeland truly housed the." Lyria nodded. "According to our oldest songs."
She rested one hand upon the ancient trunk.
"The original World Tree stood among our people; we tended to it. When the world was torn apart... It disappeared beyond our reach."
Her expression remained calm despite the sadness hidden beneath her words.
"Some believe it perished; others believe it still lives somewhere. No one knows."
Silence settled between them.
Atheline eventually spoke.
"How much of your history survives?"
Lyria smiled faintly.
"Less than we’d like. Our ancestors preserved what they could, but countless generations have passed. Some knowledge became stories, some became songs, and some..."
She looked toward the stars visible through the canopy.
"...was simply forgotten. The elders remember fragments and the scholars remember others. But even together..."
She shook her head gently.
"There are gaps."