The next morning, I was halfway through restocking shelves in the general store when Kael and Karl burst through the front door like they'd seen a ghost—or worse.
"Dirk! My lord," Kael's face was pale, eyes wild. "You need to come. Now. Down to the mine."
Karl looked just as shaken, and Karl never gets shaken. "We found something—someone."
That got my full attention. I tossed the inventory ledger aside and reached for my utility belt. "Give me the short version on the way."
As we rode our motorcycle across the plaza toward the gate and to the mine shaft behind the forge, Kael explained between breaths. "We were checking the new tunnel section, the one we marked off limits last week due to unstable mana veins."
"And?" I asked, my voice sharp with tension.
"There was a cave-in. But behind it... a chamber. Not natural. Like it was... carved out by magic. Or time."
Karl nodded grimly. "And she was there. Lying in the centre. Unconscious. No clothes. No blood. Just... sleeping."
My heart skipped. "She? You found a body?"
"Not dead," Kael said quickly. "Breathing. Alive. Just... it's better if you see it."
We descended into the mine, the mana crystals embedded in the walls casting a soft glow over the smooth tunnel floors. It took us ten minutes of winding turns and ducking through narrow shafts before we reached the chamber.
And there she was.
A woman, curled slightly on her side, with pale skin luminous under the faint violet light of the crystals. Silvery-white hair pooled around her like a halo, and even in sleep, her face looked ethereal—almost too perfect to be real.
A soft breath left her lips.
She was alive.
"She's an elf," I murmured, stepping closer and kneeling beside her. "No... not just an elf. Look at the markings on her collarbone—runes. Ancient ones."
Kael knelt beside me, brushing dirt gently from her shoulder. "Her ears are longer than any I've seen. And those tattoos... they shimmered when I touched the walls earlier. The chamber reacted to her."
Wow, I've seen beautiful women since I came here into this world, but I've never seen someone like her, someone really beautiful in a sense like I'm seeing a female version of the guardian god in the sorting place.
Karl scratched the back of his head. "She hasn't moved. Not a twitch since we got here."
I hesitated, then reached into my backpack, pulling out one of the emergency thermal blankets from my backpack and gently covered her. She didn't stir. Her skin was warm. Normal pulse. Wow! She was really so beautiful...like a pearl, so delicate and so otherworldly.
"I want her brought to the infirmary. Gently," I said. "Kael, go ahead and ward this entire section. Lock it down. I want no one in or out until I understand what this place is."
Kael nodded and stood. "I'll get the mana wardstones."
Karl helped me lift her, careful to keep the blanket secure around her. As I carried her back up the tunnel, I couldn't help but feel the weight of a thousand new questions.
Who was she?
Why was she buried in a sealed chamber under my town?
And most of all... why did I feel that strange pull in my chest the moment I touched her hand?
LATER THAT NIGHT, the woman slept peacefully in the infirmary bed, fresh linens and soft pillows surrounding her. Elvie had examined her—confirmed that she was in perfect health, but her mana pool was strange. Not depleted... sealed.
"She has no injuries, no signs of trauma. But it's like someone placed her in stasis," Elvie told me.
I frowned, and I stood beside the bed, arms crossed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.
Kael entered quietly. "The chamber was ancient, boss. Not part of any dwarven design. I've seen ruins in the lower dungeons—this was older. Elven, maybe even pre-split era."
"Then she's older than we can imagine," I said.
"She didn't look older than twenty-five," Karl muttered from the door. "If she's ancient, then she's preserved damn well."
"I don't like mysteries sleeping in my town," I muttered. "Especially not magical ones." But still... I couldn't bring myself to feel threatened. Something about her aura was calm, comforting. Peaceful. "She didn't wake?" I asked.
Elvie shook her head. "No. But she spoke."
That made me turn sharply.
"She whispered a name in her sleep... 'Elsie.'"
So she had a name.
"Let me know the moment she wakes," I said. "And keep this quiet. I don't want this news spreading."
As I left the infirmary, my thoughts were spinning. Elsie. A blind elf woman buried in a forgotten chamber beneath my growing town. This wasn't a coincidence. This was another piece of the puzzle. Another secret from a world that clearly hadn't stopped watching me. And something told me... her awakening was only the beginning.
A few hours later, she stirred. It was early morning, the sun still painting soft amber streaks through the infirmary windows. I had come to check on her—Elsie. That was the name she'd whispered in her sleep. A name that already felt oddly familiar.
I paused in the doorway, watching her eyelids flutter. Her breathing hitched. Then slowly... she opened her eyes. Blank. Pale blue and unfocused. There was no spark of recognition—just confusion. Fear. She was blind. Her hand moved slowly over the blanket, fingers trembling as they explored the world she couldn't see.
I stepped forward quietly, clearing my throat. "Hey... You're safe. You're in Robinson Town."
Her head turned slightly toward my voice. "Where... Where am I?"
"Underground, at first," I said, pulling up a chair beside her bed. "You were asleep. Sealed in some kind of magical chamber deep beneath our mines. Kael and Karl—my friends—found you. We brought you here to heal."
Her lips were pale and dry. She tried to sit up, but her body shook.
"Easy," I said gently, helping her lean against the pillows. "You've been out for a long time. You'll need to eat and drink something."
She flinched at my touch but didn't pull away. "Who... who are you?"
"I'm Dirk. Just a merchant." I gave her a small smile, then realised how useless that was to someone who couldn't see it. "I live here. I run the town, sort of. It's a long story."
She tilted her head, listening to the sound of my voice like it was her only compass.
"You don't sound like anyone I've ever met," she whispered.
"Yeah," I chuckled. "You'd be right. I'm not exactly from around here."
From my backpack, I pulled out a carefully wrapped piece of mamon—fluffy, golden, and sweet-smelling. I set it on a tray along with a cool glass of spring water and then placed it in front of her.
"It's called mamon," I explained. "A kind of soft cake. Sweet."
She reached forward slowly, her fingers brushing the plate, then finding the soft sponge of the bread. She sniffed it, hesitating. "This doesn't smell like anything I know. It smells magical."
"That's alright," I said gently. "Just a small bite. It's not poisoned, I promise. I don't go around saving magical women just to poison them."
That actually made her lips twitch into a faint smile. She took a tiny bite—hesitant, doubtful. Then another.
"...It's warm," she murmured. "And... soft."
"That's a good sign." I handed her the water. "Drink slowly."
She sipped, then let out a slow breath. "It's clean. I forgot how that felt."
"You're regaining strength. The food will help." I paused. "So will rest. You've been asleep for... centuries, probably."
She didn't answer. She simply chewed in silence, trying to make sense of everything.
And as I watched her—silver-white hair tousled, cheeks slowly regaining colour, blind eyes darting as if they were chasing distant memories—I felt something stir in me.
Admiration.
Not the kind born from power or beauty, though she had both. It was her softness. Her innocent uncertainty. Her quiet strength, even in weakness.
My grandfather used to say you could fall for someone not because they were perfect but because they were human in a world that wasn't.
She was exactly that.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
I shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "Maybe I've just seen enough war and weirdness to know that sometimes kindness is the best weapon."
That drew a small laugh from her. Tired. Soft. But genuine. I liked that sound more than I expected. "Rest for now," I said. "When you're stronger, I'll tell you about the town. Show you around—if that's okay."
She nodded, her head sinking into the pillow. "Thank you, Dirk. For everything."
I stayed beside her as she drifted off again, her breathing slow and steady. And for a brief moment, as I watched the early morning light play across her silver lashes, I allowed myself to wonder—
What kind of story were we about to write together?