The next day arrived beneath a sky tinged in pale orange. Golden sunlight filtered through the swaying treetops, but the wind carried a sharp chill that whispered across the forest and slipped through the wooden slats of the house.
Cablan groaned under his blanket, still buried in sleep, when the door burst open.
"Cablan!" Riba called out, tugging the blanket off her brother with a swift yank. "It's already past nine! Wake up and come downstairs—you've missed breakfast! And don't bother asking about Koysia, he came at eight. I told him you were still snoring like a beast, so he left."
Cablan jolted upright, rubbing his eyes with a scowl. "Ugh, Riba! Why didn't you wake me earlier? You know we had something important today!"
"Don't blame me, big brother," Riba said, arms crossed with a mock glare. "I did what I thought was best. Now, if you're not downstairs in ten minutes…" she leaned in closer with a smirk, "…forget your breakfast."
With that, she slammed the door behind her.
Cablan let out a long sigh, falling back on his pillow for a moment. Why can't I ever sleep in? he groaned internally. Just one peaceful morning, is that too much to ask?
Dragging himself out of bed, he headed downstairs. The clinking of dishes came from the kitchen, where Riba was already cleaning up. The house smelled of warm bread and herbs.
"Why are you cleaning so early?" Cablan asked, still half-groggy.
"Because," she said without looking up, "I want to come with you today. Watch your magic training. I'm tired of sitting in this house alone. You're always off with Koysia, and Mom and Dad are too busy at the border."
Cablan raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Don't cause trouble."
Riba gave him a cheeky grin. "Do I look like trouble to you?"
Cablan smirked, letting it go. "Alright. After breakfast, we head out. Get ready."
As he sat to eat, his mind wandered. The food tasted bland—his thoughts were elsewhere. Why have the elven patrols increased near the borders? What are they planning?
Riba returned with her cloak slung over her shoulder. They stepped outside and headed toward Koysia's house. But as they approached, the atmosphere shifted.
A crowd had formed, murmurs filling the air like buzzing insects. Elven soldiers stood at attention around Koysia's home—tall, silver-haired, armored, and imposing.
"What's going on?" Cablan muttered, pushing through the crowd with Riba. Thanks to their small frames, they squeezed to the front unnoticed.
There, standing firm before the elves, was Cablan's father, Handard, speaking to the elven commander.
"If you think I'll hand her over," Handard growled, "you're mistaken. This village stands together. If you want to take one of us, you'll have to take us all."
The elf commander's eyes narrowed. "Brave words… but foolish. That girl is of our blood. She belongs with us. I will take her—even if it costs my life."
Handard didn't flinch. "Then we meet on the battlefield."
Before tensions could rise further, a soft voice cut through the air.
"I'll go," said Koysia, stepping forward from the doorway, her face pale but calm. "I won't let anyone die because of me. If my presence threatens this village… then I'll return to the Elvenlands."
Handard turned to her, his voice softening. "Koysia… are you sure?"
She nodded. "I've always wondered where I came from. Maybe… it's time I found out. I don't want to bring war to the people who gave me a home."
The elf commander gave a satisfied nod. "We leave at dawn."
As the soldiers turned and marched away, silence fell over the village.
Handard looked at Koysia one last time. "If you change your mind, tell me. You'll always have a place here."
Koysia's eyes held no tears, no smile—just the stillness of winter. "Thank you. But I must go. For their sake… and for mine."