“A new voyage awaits us” I proclaimed on what I felt to be was late summer. There have been rumors of hominids roaming around, frightening everyone who thought that they were demons or Roman guards who somehow came to this world. There were also cases of items like pots and cloths mysteriously found broken, found somewhere far off or, in most cases, lost. Pots of food were left open and there are noticeable traces of loose figures rummaging through. It appears that we are not alone.
But it gotten us riled up and eager to move when we started to see our goods not being subtracted, but added. Later there were pieces of clothing lets on piles of laundry, strangely ornate tableware filled with even strange foods. Tools and weapons were repaired, sharped, or even replaced. Whoever these mysterious beings were, they have quite a bit of hospitality and modesty in their culture. We figured that it’s time to say hello to these friendly countrymen. The only problem is that there is no indication of where they are, if they are stationary or nomadic, free people or enslaved to a great empire. Whatever the case, it would be foolish to start a manhunt with a group of people who, chances are, are more experienced with the land than we are.
Then Adonia had a brilliant idea.
“Why not just offer them a few gifts of our own in one neat pile with a note on it. On the note, we can ask them about who they are, where we can find them, as well as give thanks and pardons to the gifts and crimes.”
At first, everyone was excited about this idea, but then a contraction sprang into my head.
“Well that is a wonderful idea, Adonia. But what if they can’t understand our language?”
“Oh yeah, you’re right” she sighed with a bit of disappointment “But we can at least try and write them a note. We can use words and pictures for the message. Plus the food and gifts idea is enough to tell them that we are good people.”
Everyone nodded in agreement and so did I.
“Alright Adonia, we will go with your plan. I will immediately begin to write for these neighbors a note. Everyone else, find something to generously donate.” “Nice job keeping up Lord’s word on loving your neighbors, Adonia”
“Hehehehe, thank you” with a loving, proudly mood.
Everyone by late noon has collected their donations and I have created a small parchment documenting our thanks and questions. The artwork honestly wasn’t the most fine, but it gives a clear message to those that may not speak Latin. I decided to hand out the gifts around morning with me beside it, insuring not all of the food is eaten by wild animals. This also insured I caught the attention of the enigmatic strangers. What I found was astonishing.
A matured elf, at least knowing now that it was an elf, male, guessing at the time was around 30. He definitely was some form of chieftain or king for he was adorned with colorful rocks, face paints, and magical crystals. I passed to him the gifts as I tried in vain to communicate to him in Latin. And I tried in vain to understand his elvish tongue. But then I had a strange sensation that I could try and reach out and talk to him. It reminded me so much of that Seraph in my dream. His syntax nearly mirrored the whispers of the Angels. Neither of us showed any form of intolerance or bigotry. And from the moment I offered the gifts, he took a strong stare into my eyes, as if he was examining my very heart and soul. He gestured me to follow him. I trailed him to the elven town with neither of us talking, know that it wouldn’t work. Eventually we make it to the town. The place was docile from the mental weights of sleep, but I felt waves after waves of magical and spiritual connections with this place. The forest was ruled by tremendous, trepidatious, and mighty rust colored trees. Their height was about twice the size of the Pantheon. But what outshined the beauty of these trees was what’s in the trees. There were wooden homes built on treetops and furnished with tapestries of vines. The houses were interconnected through a series of bridges and stairs, swings and trolleys, all made with living woods and vines. They have some gardens hanging from branches and most of the agriculture from these fruiting bodies seem to be totally wild and self-sustaining. Harmonious and synchronized living with nature, truly breathtaking. We walked for what it felt was an eternity. This was no town; this was a fully-fledged city, with the elf being some sort of duke. My predictions were only slightly underestimated.
I was humbly invited to his estate where he instructed me to meditate with him. I gladly obliged as our souls began to rise into the morning mist. The interior resembled the hollowed insides of a mighty oak tree, million times larger. Yet there was very few articles of furniture places around. This behemoth of the room must be the majority of his room for there are only two small corridors on either sides of the room. Without a word spoken, I understand everything about where we are, who they were, and who we were. I was depicted as an angel once more, this time with a ghostly, translucent glow against the dim lighting of dawn. I was stupefied by how this elf can do such things. I was humbled by his amazing power. Then, as our journey into consciousness was ending, I suddenly began to speak more and more of his language. By the time I got up, I was semi-decent fluent in Elven, just enough to not have any problems communicating with the locals.
“Thank you” The first thing I said to him, it was about the lonely thing I could have said.
“Call me Dringol, Adraman. And you are very much welcomed”
He handed me a map of the city with a red dot to signify the location of my party. I gave one last gesture of good will before I sprinted with excitement towards my people. Everyone was already awake and concerned for me when I had returned.
“Where have you been?!” Yelled Adonia
“First off, very rude of you Adonia! Second of all, everything will be explained! But to summarized, we are nearby a city in the trees!”
