It is the next day, and I awaken to a beautiful autumn morning. Outside my window, the trees are swaying in the wind, their leaves already shades of yellow, red, and brown. The sky is an overcast gray. The air is crisp. I can hear half the town moaning about the cold.

I get ready and gorge myself on what perishable food I have left for my breakfast, slightly regretting the indulgence after. I stuff some spare clothes in my storage pouch, including my armor and sword. Wouldn't want to be caught unprepared now, would I.

Checking that my windows are securely closed, I give the dorm room a once over, nodding to myself. All good. I close the door and head out.

I take the time I have until afternoon to wander around the city, my home. My first real home. I might not get another chance.

Eventually, I make my way to Elisa's house.

I arrive and her front door swings open for me in welcome. The elf is waiting in the entrance area.

She welcomes me in. "Hey."

"Hello, Elisa."

She waves me over to her kitchen and takes a seat, motioning to some afternoon tea equivalent. "I sent my parents a letter, but are you sure it's better to avoid mentioning that someone will be joining me?"

I decline the offer, rubbing my stomach. "It is best to separate the two characters as much as possible. There are many ways a message could be intercepted. And there is no telling how a simple, and most likely innocuous, statement might shine light on my involvement when coupled with other slivers of information."

"Okay, Mr. Paranoia." She devours a small pancake with some jam on it. "What do I tell my parents when we pop out in their living room, then?"

"That is up to you, but I would encourage the truth. After that, I shall take over the conversation."

"I can do that. And if mother starts giving you too much trouble, I will help you out."

"The consideration is appreciated but try to keep it light. This is my battle after all." She levels me with a dangerous glare. I clear my throat. "Apologies. Force of habit."

"You are on thin ice, buddy."

"What I meant to say was, please assist me."

She nods with some satisfaction. "There we go. Was that so hard?"

Yes. "Yes." She devours another pancake while keeping eye contact.

After taking a sip of some tea, the elf asks, "How long do you think it will take?"

"The request for a mediator has already reached the Elven Council. It will, most likely, be expedited and discussed in a meeting within a few days. As for the negotiations and after, I do not know with certainty. Depending on which scenario I must act on, from a few days to a few months. But I will need to discuss with Councilor Alcia on how we will be proceeding."

"You're going to do something stupid, aren't you?" I nod. "And my mother is going to be {Best approximation: 'on board' (Similar colloquial expression with different origins)} with it, isn't she?" I nod again. Elisa skewers a third pancake and relishes in its screams while she masticates it. "Goddess, I can already picture you two plotting together in a dim room, then going out for tea like you've been best friends for thousands of years."

"I wouldn't refer to it as 'plotting'... The idea is to prevent harm."

Elisa narrows her eyes at me. "Uh-huh." Then she finishes her tea and starts grumbling, "Stupid dwarves and stupid demons, doing shit like this every few years. We were so close to finishing the second main quest too." I start to explain why our involvement is necessary, but she interrupts me with a sigh. "I know, I know. Just venting."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I apologize for involving you in this situation."

Elisa pins me with serious look. "Don't apologize. It's the right thing to do. And the only thing I'm doing is introducing you to Mother, anyway."

"Well..."

"Goddess, help me..."

***

"I'll need a few teleports to get us there if I don't want to tire myself out. Is that okay?"

"Of course. Whatever you are comfortable with." I change my shell to an elven configuration.

"What the fuck!" I raise my hands in apology, a placating expression on my face. "Warn a girl before doing that next time, please." The shock abates, and she gives me a once over. "Weird. You look like yourself but not really." She frowns. "I don't like it."

"Should I shift the facial structure further?"

Elisa shivers slightly and shakes her head. "And your voice is different."

"It would be quite shortsighted to utilize the exact same voice. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I guess... Can you make it a bit more similar though?"

"Certainly, Elisa. How's this?"

She smiles. "Better." We move to the entrance and put our shoes on. "Ready?" I affirm. She covers us in a protective bubble.

We are in a grassy field. We are somewhere up a mountain. We are in a forest. We are inside a house, specifically, another entrance area. The bubble disperses. We take our shoes off and go deeper in.

The next room is warm and gently lit. There are various plants scattered throughout. The walls are a gleaming, white wood with a grain so fine it nearly appears uniform in color. The floor and ceiling are darker, more conventional-looking planks. The furniture is wooden and plush. Large windows, covered with thin curtains, show the city outside. Wooden houses with similarly large windows are nestled between giant trees. Some are shorter than the trees, others pierce through, going higher. While the canopy is nearly unbroken, sunlight still shines through somehow, illuminating everything below. In spite of the season, there is vegetation everywhere, both public spaces and private gardens. Narrow, stone roads run between the houses, connecting the city. Treehome—the Elven Confederacy's capital city slash state.

Elisa shouts out, "Mother, Father, I'm home!"

Something clatters in another room, and a male voice shouts back, "Elisa!" The voice starts approaching. "I was surprised you'd want to visit again so soon. Homesick already?" An elf enters the room. Short, ash blonde hair, combed to the side. Youthful face. Kind, green eyes. His next words get stuck in his throat, staring at me. Then he manages to continue, "Hello?" He turns to his daughter. "Who's this, Elisa?"

"Father, meet Lucius. Lucius, meet my father, Ulorn of Deepgrove."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ulorn."

The ambush leaves him somewhat rattled. "The pleasure is all mine, Lucius? ...Apologies. That is quite the unconventional name. Elisa, why haven't you introduced your friend properly?"

Her lips form a line. "Long story. One I'd rather not repeat. On that note, where is mother?" She looks around.

Ulorn recovers from the strange interaction. "She should be back soon. Wrapping up something or other. You know how it is." He waves his hand and then remembers something. "Where are my manners. Have a seat. Would you like something to drink, Lucius?"

As we make ourselves comfortable, I answer, "That would be great, thank you."

Elisa's father smiles. "I'll squeeze some fresh {apple} juice." He then beats a hasty retreat.

Elisa leans over and whispers to me, only slightly sarcastically, "That went well."

"Your mother is two minutes out."

"Thank the Goddess."

Her father returns with a tray, sets a glass in front of each person, and addresses us both, "While we wait for Alcia, saving what I am sure is a fascinating story, how have you been, Elisa?"

She makes a wide, genuine smile, glancing briefly at me. "I've been good. Interesting discoveries every day." Another glance, accompanied by a cheeky smile. Can you please stop messing with me... Not the time.

Ulorn returns the smile in kind. "And I trust you've finally heeded my repeated warnings about focusing solely on your work?" I take a sip of the juice. Tasty.

She chuckles. "Yes, Father. I've been preoccupied with something important lately." Another glance. Okay, now she's just messing with both of us.

Ulorn, to his credit, keeps his decorum. I chalk that up to repeated exposure. "And you've been eating properly, right?" Oh? What's this?

"Of course."

Time for some backup. "Those pastries you always recommend are really great, Elisa."

His expression somehow becomes even kinder. "Pastries? Is that right, Lucius?" Frantic messages start popping up, a mix of letters and emojis.

I eagerly nod. "I have no idea how Elisa manages to eat the whole thing every time. I get stuffed not even halfway through."

"Elisa, care to comment?" her father asks.

She looks scared. But while trying to formulate a defense, the front door clicks open.

After a few moments, the rustling of clothing and the clatter of shoes getting kicked off can be heard. A woman bursts into the room. Dark gray hair, nearly black, and tied in a long ponytail. Striking gray eyes, radiating wisdom and experience.

Honored Councilor Alcia of Deepgrove squeals out, "{Best approximation: 'Pumpkin' (Similar endearing pet name)}!"

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