Pillars of Age

A Path Beneath the Wind

HARLAN

The forest path wound through ancient trees, their leaves whispering secrets of bygone eras. A handful of Forest Elf buildings, resembling those in the Western District of Green Leaf City, stood sentinel by a stone road leading to a grand bridge. This bridge spanned a deep, wide chasm, its majestic form a stark contrast to its surroundings. Crafted from a mysterious metal and adorned with intricate designs, the bridge stood in elegant defiance of time, unlike the simpler wooden and stone structures nearby. Though rust marred its surface, the bridge remained steadfast, a silent guardian over the abyss.

Harlan approached the bridge, his fingers tracing the cool, weathered metal. "This bridge feels out of place, almost as if it wasn't crafted by Forest Elves."

Aevrin stepped closer, her eyes reflecting the bridge's enigmatic history. "You're right. This bridge predates our settlement in the Elder Forest. Its age is older than seven centuries."

"Valikh Aevrin," Sara interrupted, her tone a mix of respect and urgency. "What's the plan for our journey?"

Aevrin turned to her, her expression contemplative. "We'll rest here tonight and set out at dawn via the main path beyond this ancient bridge. I want my unit to visit our casualties from the north first."

Sara's lips curved into a slight smile when Aevrin excused herself as she nudged Harlan. "Maybe our 'Noble Forest Elf' situation isn't as difficult as we feared."

Harlan, however, remained transfixed by the bridge, his thoughts seemingly tethered to its mysterious past.

"Hey, are you even listening?" Sara's voice held a note of irritation.

"I heard her," Harlan replied, still distracted. "This bridge has stood for over seven hundred years."

Sara sighed, exasperated. "No, Harlan. We're staying here tonight because they need to care first for some of the casualties from the north."

Finally tearing his gaze from the bridge, Harlan's eyes sharpened with concern. "Casualties? Where are they?"

"Likely in the tents near those buildings," Sara answered.

Curiosity ignited; Harlan scanned the area. "Why didn't I notice them?"

"Because your mind's been glued to this bridge since we arrived," Cirro retorted, his frustration with Harlan's sudden tunnel vision evident.

Slightly stung, Harlan refocused on the task at hand. He strode towards the tents, the others following closely behind.

A stern-faced Forest Elf guard barred their way. "Humans are not allowed inside. Only victims of the northern enemy's atrocities remain here."

Harlan stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "We have expertise in dealing with Tengu and Orcs. Investigating these victims might provide crucial insights for the upcoming battles."

The guard's eyes narrowed with distrust. "We have endured enough without your interference."

Undeterred, Harlan held his ground, searching for the right words to convey their intent.

An elderly female Forest Elf, her long white hair a testament to her years, approached and gently touched the guard's shoulder. "Young human, this is not your place. However, if you're truly curious, you may examine the remnants of enemy weapons we've extracted from their bodies over there."

A spark of interest lit Harlan's eyes. "Thank you, that's precisely what I need."

They walked to the corner where discarded weapons lay in a haphazard pile.