Farran, the final disciple of the Traveler God, hastened southward with burning urgency. His destination was Skógareinn, the domain of King Blár, leader of the Forest Elves in Midgard and Farran's own senior disciple. He bore a command from God Modi: Blár was to mobilize his forces and invade Alfheimr to annihilate the High Elves once and for all.
Farran sprinted tirelessly, vaulting over valleys and streams until he encountered a massive river barring his path. To swim across was far too perilous, forcing him to detour deep into the forest to find a ford where the waters were calm enough to traverse.
As he waded through the dense woods, Farran could not help but think of the Traveler God, Magni. Without Gorfang—the giant dragon capable of shrinking the world's distance in a blink—and despite possessing the strength of a god, would Magni have chosen to risk the torrent before him? Or would he have accepted the delay of the detour, as Farran was doing now?
Farran continued to dash through the deep woods until his ears caught the sound of metal clashing violently, accompanied by a mysterious, thunderous boom that sent birds and beasts fleeing in terror. Part of him wanted to press on relentlessly, driven by his urgent mission of vengeance. But then, the teachings of King Blár flashed in his mind: 'The duty of a disciple of the Traveler God is not merely to reach the destination, but to extend a hand to those in distress along the way.'
Deciding to veer off course, Farran headed straight toward the source of the sound. He concealed himself behind the foliage to observe a life-or-death battle unfolding before him. On one side stood a woman in an elegant, form-fitting gold outfit; her movements were regal yet chillingly cold—the unmistakable mark of a High Elf of Alfheimr.
On the other side lay a young human female warrior, stumbling across the ground. Though her hand still gripped her sword and shield tightly, her strength was clearly fading fast.
The High Elf's sword slashed in a deadly arc toward the young warrior again. However, in that split second of death, the enemy's figure vanished into thin air, causing the blade to miss its mark.
A few dozen paces away, the young female warrior reappeared alongside an elderly man in grey-white robes. It seemed the old man's teleportation magic had bought them another breath of life. Yet, the enemy offered no respite. Two arrows soared toward them with the speed and ferocity of lightning!
Clang!
The young warrior gritted her teeth, raising her shield to block both arrows with all her might. However, the immense impact knocked the shield from her hand instantly. Her arm trembled until it was numb, while the elderly wizard cowered flat against the grass, terrified that the next volley would claim his life right there.
The scene was clear: the High Elves held complete victory. Unless someone intervened, the final moments of the young warrior and the old wizard would arrive in a matter of heartbeats.
A. Farran holds his breath and remains hidden. / B. Farran stands up and fires arrows at the two High Elves.
A. Farran holds his breath and remains hidden
Farran remained motionless in the brush, erasing his presence. He reasoned internally that the events before him had nothing to do with him. This was not his war. Confronting two powerful Elven women would only cause God Modi's mission to fail.
Thud! Thud!
Death visited the warrior and the old wizard silently. Their bodies jerked once from the impact of the arrows before lying still in a pool of blood. Farran closed his eyes for a moment, trying to purge the tragic image from his mind, pretending it was merely a nightmare passing through that would soon fade away.
Amidst the silence that blanketed the clearing, the two High Elf women walked toward the corpses. The Elf archer, wearing a flower crown, ran over cheerfully before bending down to pick up a green apple that had fallen from the old wizard's hand, her eyes sparkling.
"Haha! Look, Alvissa... I have obtained the Apples of Idunn!" she exclaimed with excitement.
"Lady Dagnisia, you have the apple; let us return. We have wasted enough time here," the sword-wielding Elf, who appeared more composed and cool, spoke with great respect.
Dagnisia raised an eyebrow at her companion. "From your tone... it seems you do not believe this is the real magic apple, do you?"
This Elf archer named "Dagnisia" was, in truth, a Princess of the High Elves.
"......" Alvissa did not reply; she merely fulfilled her duty as the Princess's royal guard.
"The night before I sneaked away from you to visit the black market alone, I heard the wizard was asking two thousand gold coins for this, claiming it grants eternal youth. How could it be anything else?" Dagnisia, still a young girl at heart, remained fun-loving and curious about everything.
"But... that wizard looked extremely old, did he not?" Alvissa spoke with hidden meaning: if it were truly the Apples of Idunn, why did the wizard not eat it himself?
"Well, the apple is so precious, the old wizard probably couldn't bring himself to eat it," the Elf Princess reasoned, acting as if she were about to take a bite.
"Do not eat it yet," Alvissa interrupted, quickly snatching the apple from the Princess's hand. "Wait until we return to the kingdom and have the Queen inspect it first... I will keep it safe for you."
"No, Alvissa! Give it back!" Dagnisia whined like a child having a toy taken away, but the guard remained indifferent, tucking it away securely.
The two departed, leaving behind only silence and bodies beginning to turn cold. Farran, having watched until he was sure the danger had passed, slowly emerged from his hiding spot and continued his journey to Skógareinn.
Eventually, Farran arrived at Skógareinn. He immediately requested an audience with King Blár in his capacity as the King's junior disciple. Before long, he was led into the grand reception hall built of ancient pine, a place he once knew well. However, the atmosphere now felt strangely cold and desolate.
The voice of the royal guard announced, "Farran of Mj?llnirshús seeks an audience!"
Farran placed his right hand over his chest and bowed his head slightly, showing full respect to the throne. However, above him, King Blár remained motionless, merely raising his right hand slightly to signal permission to speak.
"King of Skógareinn... I travel here to bring a message from God Modi," Farran began with a firm voice.
"Say no more, Farran... You are not the first to travel here to inform me of the Traveler God's death," Blár cut him off, his voice heavy with boredom and detachment.
"Then you must know that God Modi requires you to move your army into Alfheimr immediately! To avenge God Magni, our master!"
"Farran... You have traveled far. Go and rest first," Blár said, turning his face away, strictly refusing the divine order.
"King Blár! Why do you speak such words?" Farran shouted in frustration. "Is vengeance for the death of God Magni, our master, not the most urgent matter?!"
What Farran did not know was that several days prior, Princess Dagnisia had brought a secret message offering a proposal difficult to refuse. A position as a High Noble in the Elven Council was used to lure the leader of the Forest Elves, a people oppressed for so long. Though he had always been looked down upon by High Elves, when offered honor among his own kind, Blár felt deeply shaken, believing deep down that he was still an Elf.
"Farran... The Kingdom of Skógareinn has only just been established. We are not ready for war," Blár replied coldly.
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"But Dodan has an army of only three hundred and thirty-two! Yet he heads to Alfheimr without hesitation!" Farran retorted instantly.
"Dodan and I are very different," Blár averted his gaze from his junior's questioning eyes.
"You are both disciples of the Traveler God, are you not!"
"Dodan is a Dwarf... but I am an Elf!" The King of Skógareinn roared a justification that sounded entirely unreasonable.
Farran was stunned. It was pathetic. Both Dwarves and Forest Elves were despised by High Elves alike. Especially the Forest Elves, who were once expelled from Alfheimr without honor, forced to wander and live in Svartalfheim with the Dwarves. But now, Blár was willing to throw away his dignity and gratitude just to hope to stand in a place where they once spat on him.
"Are you saying that... because you are an Elf, you will not make war against the High Elves?" Farran said with a trembling voice. The eyes that were once full of respect began to curdle into pity. "You do not think to avenge God Magni, our master... You choose to be a cowardly ingrate."
"Silence your mouth at once, Farran!" Blár stood up to his full height. His shout echoed through the wooden hall until the guards gripped their weapons tightly. "Here, I am King! No one can insult my honor in my kingdom."
"Being an ingrate is already an insult to one's own honor, is it not? Did you not once preach to me the heroic way of the disciples of the Traveler God?" Farran let out a bitter laugh. His eyes turned scornful, and in his rage, his speech became stuttered. "And here you... and that..."
King Blár's rage spiraled beyond control. He did not wait for Farran to finish. The Forest Elf King reached down and grabbed his trusty bow with lightning speed. In a blink, the arrow was drawn to the limit and released, tearing through the air!
Thud!
The arrow pierced the center of Farran's chest with violence and precision. Blár lived up to the title of "Lord of the Bow of Midgard." The massive force sent Farran's body flying backward onto the hall floor immediately.
Farran's eyes went wide. His breath hitched. Pain shot through his entire body. But more painful than the wound was the truth... the one who took his life was his own senior disciple. Furthermore, the bow used was the very one he himself had brought as a gift on a previous journey.
Crimson blood slowly flooded his chest and seeped into the wooden floor. Farran breathed his last while his eyes were still fixed on his senior, King Blár.
"Take his corpse and throw it away!" Blár roared with a hoarse voice. He dared not even turn back to look at the motionless body of his junior disciple again before flinging his face away and walking out of the throne hall in silence.
Farran's death did not merely end the life of the Traveler God's last disciple; that arrow became a curse pinned to King Blár's heart from that moment on. The Forest Elf King never found a bright day again. He sank into drunkenness from dawn to dusk. Not long after, the once-prosperous Kingdom of Skógareinn gradually declined and withered, until finally, it became nothing but a desolate wasteland, remembered only in tales... as the kingdom of the Ungrateful King.
B. Farran stands up and fires arrows at the two High Elves
Farran could endure no longer. He rose from his hiding spot and immediately fired an arrow at the High Elf archer. The bow in his hand was a magical artifact crafted by God Modi and passed down from King Blár. An arrow fired from this bow traveled nearly twice as fast as one from a standard weapon. And with the skills inherited from the Traveler God, this final disciple could call himself a "Master Archer" with dignity.
However, in that split second of death, the High Elf with the sword and shield moved to intercept just in time. She raised her shield to block the fatal arrow.
But Farran did not stop there! He used the advantage of his concealed position to shift his aim agilely, firing three more arrows in rapid succession. Every shot was aimed relentlessly at the High Elf archer.
The High Elf warrior with the sword and shield displayed incredible skill. Though the arrows flew at blinding speed from various angles, she still deflected them with precision. However, the final arrow glanced off her sword in an unexpected trajectory. It struck the High Elf archer's thigh, cutting a line of blood.
Seeing her companion injured, the sword-wielding High Elf hesitated no longer. She wrapped her arm around her comrade's waist and leaped away to escape immediately.
Farran refused to let this golden opportunity slip. He switched targets, aiming at the back of the retreating foe. But this High Elf seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. She swung her sword to deflect the arrow accurately once again before speeding away into the deep forest, disappearing from sight.
When the figures of the two High Elves had vanished into the woods, Farran lowered his bow and hurried over to the old wizard and the young warrior, who were collapsing to the ground in exhaustion.
"Are you injured anywhere?" Farran asked with concern, his eyes scanning them for wounds.
"Thank you for saving our lives... We are not badly hurt, only minor wounds," the young warrior replied with a trembling voice, before turning to help the old wizard stand up.
However, when the old wizard tried to rise, he slumped down again. Though his body wasn't severely injured, his old age combined with the exertion of the battle had drained his strength completely.
Seeing this, Farran bent down to carry the old man on his back. "Get on. We must leave this place quickly. If the two High Elves return, we will struggle to survive."
The young warrior felt deeply grateful for Farran's kindness. She had used all her strength just to survive moments ago. Though she could stand, carrying her elderly relative at this moment would be beyond her power alone.
The two became Farran's traveling companions heading to Skógareinn. During the journey, they conversed and learned that the young warrior was named "Fiona" and the old wizard was named "Galdur." Both were heading to "Twitching Eyebrow Village," having heard rumors that the village was giving away land for free. This journey also revealed to Farran that the two were actually related as "Great-granddaughter and Great-grandfather."
Eventually, Farran and his two companions arrived at Skógareinn. He immediately requested an audience with King Blár in his capacity as the King's junior disciple. Before long, they were led into the grand reception hall built of ancient pine, a place he once knew well. However, the atmosphere now felt strangely cold and silent.
The voice of the royal guard announced, "Farran of Mj?llnirshús and his companions seek an audience!"
Farran, Fiona, and Galdur placed their right hands over their chests and bowed their heads in unison to respect the throne before them. However, above them, King Blár remained motionless, merely raising his right hand slightly to signal permission to speak.
Naturally, Farran was the only one to speak. He began, "King of Skógareinn... I travel here to bring a message from God Modi."
"Say no more, Farran... You are not the first to travel here to inform me of the Traveler God's death," Blár cut him off, his voice heavy with boredom and detachment.
"Then you must know that God Modi requires you to move your army into Alfheimr immediately! To avenge God Magni, our master!"
"Farran... You have traveled far. Go and rest first," Blár said, turning his face away, strictly refusing the divine order.
"King Blár! Why do you speak such words?" Farran shouted in frustration. "Is vengeance for the death of God Magni, our master, not the most urgent matter?!"
What Farran did not know was that several days prior, Princess Dagnisia had brought a secret message offering a proposal difficult to refuse. A position as a High Noble in the Elven Council was used to lure the leader of the Forest Elves. Though he had always been looked down upon by High Elves, when offered honor among the Elven race, Blár felt deeply shaken, believing deep down that he was still an Elf.
"Farran... The Kingdom of Skógareinn has only just been established. We are not ready for war," Blár replied coldly.
"But Dodan has an army of only three hundred and thirty-two! Yet he heads to Alfheimr without hesitation!" Farran retorted instantly.
"Dodan and I are very different," Blár averted his gaze from his junior's questioning eyes.
"You are both disciples of the Traveler God, are you not!" As Farran spoke this sentence, the atmosphere in the room suddenly turned tense, causing Fiona and Galdur to look at each other, signaling readiness for an unexpected situation.
"Dodan is a Dwarf... but I am an Elf!" The King of Skógareinn roared a justification that sounded entirely unreasonable.
Farran was stunned. It was pathetic. Both Dwarves and Forest Elves were despised by High Elves alike. Especially the Forest Elves, who were once expelled from Alfheimr without honor, forced to wander and live in Svartalfheim with the Dwarves. But now, Blár was willing to throw away his dignity and gratitude just to hope to stand in a place where they once spat on him.
"Are you saying that... because you are an Elf, you will not make war against the High Elves?" Farran said with a trembling voice. The eyes that were once full of respect began to curdle into pity. "You do not think to avenge God Magni, our master... You choose to be a cowardly ingrate."
"Silence your mouth at once, Farran!" Blár stood up to his full height. His shout echoed through the wooden hall until the guards gripped their weapons tightly. "Here, I am King! No one can insult my honor in my kingdom."
"Being an ingrate is already an insult to one's own honor, is it not? Did you not once preach to me the heroic way of the disciples of the Traveler God?" Farran let out a bitter laugh. His eyes turned scornful, and in his rage, his speech became stuttered. "And here you... and that..."
King Blár's rage spiraled beyond control. He did not wait for Farran to finish. The Forest Elf King reached down and grabbed his trusty bow with lightning speed. In a blink, the arrow was drawn to the limit and released, tearing through the air!
Clang!
However, the arrow was deflected by Fiona's shield just in time. But King Blár, the "Lord of the Bow of Midgard," did not stop there. He drew his bow to attack again immediately. But then, something incredible happened—the three visitors vanished from sight miraculously!
"Argh!" A cry of pain from the guard at the door rang out, as Farran and his companions smashed through the hall doors to escape.
The sudden disappearance was nothing other than Galdur's unique magic, cast to escape in times of crisis.
"Go hunt them down! Bring them back!" Blár roared like a lion, yet he did not move to pursue them himself. He chose to fling his face away and walk out of the throne hall, leaving only silence behind.
Farran, Fiona, and Galdur managed to escape Skógareinn safely. The three headed back toward Mj?llnirshús immediately. Inside Farran's heart, the flames of vengeance were raging. He was firmly determined to return to ask for forces from God Modi to come back and take the life of the ungrateful King Blár.
From that day forth, Fiona and Galdur became Farran's most important friends and allies forever.
Alternative Results—what do you think? I feel like it adds an interactive layer, almost leveling up this "plain old fantasy" into something closer to a Visual Novel.