As they bowed, she heard the words ripple through the hush:
"Welcome back, Grandmaster Elion."
The name curled in her thoughts like smoke. Elion. A name both soft and strong—like stone wrapped in silk.
They walked slowly down the path, the soft pressure of his hand at her back grounding her. She wasn't sure if it was meant to steady her legs or her heart, but either way, she let herself lean into it.
Before them rose the great doors—tall and carved with intricate floral patterns, vines entwining blossoms she couldn't name. The two lion statues on either side looked almost alive, their eyes catching light like polished amber.
The doors creaked open with a sound like thunder rolled in velvet.
Inside, voices fell to whispers. Heads turned. Then silence. One by one, robed figures bowed low.
"Grandmaster," many murmured.
She stayed behind him, small and quiet, letting his presence carry them through. She didn't know these people, this place, or even what she was now—but she knew the feel of safety when it wrapped around her.
Up the curved stairs they climbed, past doors lined with strange markings and light that flickered like fireflies. Her senses drank it in—wood polished with herbs, burning incense, faint murmurs of wind from unseen windows.
He opened one door and motioned her in.
It was a room unlike any she had seen—wide, warm, and rich with forest colors. Soft greens, earthy browns, and gold accents made the space feel like a living grove. Herbs hung from beams. Glass jars lined shelves. In the right corner, a long wooden table now held tools—bowls, stones, presses, and blades—tools she had glimpsed from the skies.
To the left, a small open door led into a bedroom. Soft furs, a bed carved with twisting patterns of trees and stars, and a window that faced the night sky.
She turned back to him, wide-eyed.
"This will be your room," he said, his voice calm but certain. "Everything here is now yours. You should rest now. If you need anything, walk down to the great hall—there is always someone at the main table. They will help you."
He paused.
"I will provide what you need and guide you—for now. Soon, you will understand more. Tomorrow morning, someone will come to lead you to my office."
He stepped back, offering a final bow of his head.
"Rest, child of the veil."
With that, he turned. His steps were silent, but certain. The door closed behind him with a whisper.
And she was alone.
But not abandoned.
As she stood and observed the room, a sense of calm washed over her. She walked slowly toward the table, her fingers grazing the smooth surface of her new tools. It felt as though a new home was unfolding before her, a space that was hers to shape and explore.
Stepping into her bedroom, she noticed a small door that led to a bathroom she had never seen the likes of. Curiosity sparked within her, and without a second thought, she decided to try it. She set her clothes aside and approached the wall, where something protruded, inviting her closer.
As she stepped beneath it, a light drizzle began, as though the very walls themselves were alive with magic. Drops of water fell gently on her skin, and she was surprised to find that the water was warm. Closing her eyes, she let herself be enveloped by the sensation, the flow adjusting to her desires as the water cascaded around her.
What kind of magical place was this? It was as though the room had been designed just for her—every detail, every corner seemed to respond to her needs. The forest colors, the carefully placed tools, the soft fabric of the dress—it was all perfect.
When she stepped out of the shower, warm and refreshed, a towel appeared on the holder, and a new dress, similar to the ones others wore, hung waiting on the door. She dried herself with the towel and, intrigued, tried on the new dress. It was a soft green, adorned with golden leaf patterns at the edges. As she slipped into it, she marveled at how perfectly it fit—like it had been made just for her. The fabric felt unlike anything she had ever touched before, soft and light as if woven from the finest silk.
Her hands lingered over the fabric, feeling its smoothness and beauty. She could hardly believe how effortless it seemed, the way it embraced her form. It was a thing of beauty—soft, gentle, and designed with care.
---
As she stood in front of the mirror, wearing the new dress, a sense of wonder washed over her. The green fabric seemed to shimmer with an inner light, as though it were alive with the hues of the forest she had come to know so well. The golden leaves along the edges caught the light, and every movement she made seemed to bring the dress to life in a dance of colors. She touched the fabric again, marveling at how soft it felt against her skin, like the gentlest breeze on a warm day.
She took a slow breath, feeling the weight of the day start to settle in. Everything around her—this room, the warmth of the water, the dress—felt like a dream she wasn't ready to wake from.
Her fingers lingered on the dress a moment longer before she walked toward the table. The tools she had seen earlier caught her eye again, and she slowly ran her hands over the smooth surfaces of the instruments, each one beautifully crafted and clearly designed with purpose. It was as if the room, the place she had found herself in, had been waiting for her. Waiting for her to feel a sense of peace, to let go of the fear and uncertainty that had followed her for so long.
With the dress settling comfortably around her, she stepped back to the window and gazed out. The forest outside stretched wide, bathed in the soft glow of the evening light. It was the same, yet different. The trees seemed to stand taller, the air richer, as though it had become a part of her.
She took another deep breath, feeling the peace of the space surround her. The grandmaster had spoken of protection, of learning. A part of her still trembled with the weight of everything she had left behind. But another part—an unfamiliar, growing part—felt a quiet excitement stirring within her. What was this place? What would she become here?
The silence in the room embraced her like an old friend, and she finally allowed herself to sit on the soft bed. The sheets felt cool against her skin, and the space around her seemed to hum with a quiet energy, as if it, too, was alive.
Her mind raced with questions, but for once, she allowed herself to just be. Tomorrow would bring more answers. Tonight, she could rest.
She closed her eyes, the softness of the room, the warmth of the dress, the stillness of the air, lulling her into a peaceful sleep.