Deep in Atheria's Forest, a bolt of light zips by the sappy trees, leaving trails of sparkling residue in its wake. The enchanted forest, usually serene, reacts with a subtle tremor as the bolt of light passes overhead. The river below witnesses the disturbance as blue and goldfish adorned with wide, gliding wings leap out of the water in a synchronized dance of fear.

Undeterred by the commotion it stirs, the bolt of light forges ahead, tracing a sparking path that leads toward the heart of the forest's capital. The dense canopy gives way to a well-trodden brick path, guiding the light toward the capital of the enchanted realm. A monumental living gate comes into view, crafted from still-living trees that appear to stretch for miles around. Each tree in the gate is adorned with a colorful array of gems, each bound by metal runes that enhance their mystical essence.

The trees in this sacred space, distinct from their sappy counterparts, have leaves that have solidified, with tiny moon rocks hovering above them like vigilant sentinels. As the bolt of light approaches the grand gate, the thousands of moons hovering over the trees lock their gaze onto the incoming beams, their collective glow intensifying in response to the strange presence.

At the imposing gate, two guards stood sentinel in front of what appeared to be a rock-drawn carriage, driven by an elderly elf holding the reins. The guards surveyed the unusual sight with a mix of confusion and suspicion.

The first guard, a tall humanoid Black Panther adorned in a full suit of black and blue armor with a prominent crescent moon crest, lacked a helmet to accommodate his feline features. He held a sword with intricate runes on the sheath at his left hip, while a spear pointed skyward in his hands. A shield, affixed to his other arm's armor, completed his formidable ensemble. Beside him, the second guard was a shorter, light-skinned elf, clad in lighter armor and a white and green cloak. Their crossbow, intricately inscribed with green runes, rested on their back, alongside a quiver. Despite wearing a helmet that was slightly too large, revealing tufts of short, light green hair and protruding ears, they mirrored the panther's weapon choice with a spear in hand.

As the peculiar rock-drawn carriage approached, both guards exchanged perplexed glances. The elf guard, adopting a serious tone, approached the carriage and sternly requested, "Papers, please." The elderly elven driver responded with a tinge of sadness, "I seem to have lost them when I was out of the country; bandits robbed me of all I had, forcing me to return." The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving uncertainty about the old elf's journey and the intentions behind his unusual mode of transportation.

The panther guard maintained a stern demeanor and declared, "Hmm, I see. We will have to hold you in the refugee room and wait for any form of verification from the capital. As for your items, we will have to confiscate them. Outside of this country, the world is full of corrupted dark items, and we can't have those in the capital."

Accepting the terms with a tinge of sadness, the elderly elf hopped off his carriage, acknowledging, "As long as you return it, I'm fine with this." He proceeded to walk toward a room labeled "refugee room," seamlessly integrated into the tree's walls, with his rock creature obediently following behind.

The elf guard, showing little empathy, retorted, "We can't allow that thing into the city. We will be taking it with the rest of your items. That creature is from the kingdom of Wrath and something like that we simply can not allow in." As they reached for the reins, the rock creature began to thrash about, the old elf desperately pleading, "No, you can't take her away from me; she's all I have left." The guards responded by pointing their spears at the raging rock, prepared to enforce their decision.

As the scene unfolded, the Black Panther guard keenly observed a bolt of light hurtling towards them at high speeds. "Hey! We have some sort of magic coming in," he yelled, immediately capturing everyone's attention. Swiftly, he positioned himself in front of the carriage, taking a knee with his shield facing the incoming magical projectile. With a fervent chant, he invoked, "May Atheria bless this shield to hold strong against this incoming threat." Runes began to materialize on the shield, causing it to glow a bright blue. The moons on the walls intensified their glow, enhancing the number of runes inscribed on the shield. Suddenly, the shield transformed into a thick wall of hardened rock. The panther guard urgently shouted, "Bracing for impact," as the elves watched in awe.

Amid the confusion and anticipation for the impact, the bolt never struck, leaving them all in a state of bewilderment. The panther's rock wall collapsed back into a shield, revealing Freya standing amidst the rubble. With a mischievous grin, she said, "Boo, hey there, Black Thorn." The panther guard, Black Thorn, stumbled backward and sat down, exclaiming, "O-oh, it's just you, Captain Freya." Rising to his feet, a bit embarrassed, he continued, "What brings you here? Aren't you supposed to be training the fox kid?"

Interrupting this, the elf guard at the gate yelled, "What do you mean, what brings you here? Don't greet them like that; that big-horned sheep nearly killed us. What in the world was that?" Freya shot a glance of frustration toward the elven guard. Black Thorn quickly intervened, yelling, "Pay her no mind, Captain. They are new to the capital." He turned his head to give the elf guard a stern look, nearly stifling their breath. Turning back to Freya, Black Thorn said, "They are getting training from me. As a guard, I apologize for their rude comment. I will inform them about how things operate down here."

Before he could conclude his sentence, Freya vanished, leaving a trail of sparks in her wake. In the blink of an eye, she reappeared behind the two elves, astonishing the guard with her speed. Addressing the old elf, she remarked, "Hey there, Swiftfoot; it's been a long while since I've seen you." The old elf replied, "Yes, you know how it is. You get old, leave the legion, travel—you know how it goes. Most people don't even call me Swiftfoot anymore; if anything, I'm Slowfoot." Freya responded, "Ah, I see. Are these guards giving you trouble?" The elf guard, interrupting Swiftfoot out of fear, stammered, "U-um, actually, we were just letting him in," as he handed back Swiftfoot's meager belongings, and his rock companion began to calm down. Giving the guard a pointed look, Freya said, "Great. Moving on to more important matters, I'm here to meet with the rest of the elite legion. I heard it from the trees and the whispers in the wind; it seemed to be important."

Behind the towering wall of the capital, a voice echoed, jeering at Freya's proclamation. "I heard it from the trees and the wind—get real. A birdy with a note brought ours. Long time no see, sis." Emerging from the shadows behind the castle wall was a figure entirely covered in jet-black skin, a humanoid sheep. Despite a slightly lighter shade of black for the hair, the figure bore a striking resemblance to Freya, suggesting a familial connection. He also walked without a shirt, wearing only poofy short pants with two ruin-covered short blades with a dark gem on the handle. Freya, in response, greeted the figure named Jorma. "Hello, Jorma. It sure has been too long. How many years has it been—10, no, 20 years since we fought those nasty Gracken? But yes, truly, the wind and the trees do speak. That's probably why I never received a bird."

Jorma, visibly taken aback, questioned, "What kind of deals have you been making?" Freya, aware of the sensitive nature of their conversation, walked over to Jorma's shoulder, positioning themselves out of sight from the moons overhead, which seemed to lock onto their every word. In a hushed whisper, Freya responded, "We can't talk about this right now; the moons are watching." As Freya spoke, the glow of the moons dimmed.

Freya playfully slapped Jorma's back, exclaiming, "Come on, we have to get to Atheria's tree. You too, Swiftfoot; it's always nice to have a veteran around." With that, she swiftly departed with Swiftfoot, his rock-drawn carriage and Jorma following close behind, leaving the guards standing in contemplation, pondering the unexpected events that had just unfolded before them.

As they passed through the gates, a diverse array of elves and animal humanoids filled the bustling scene. Elves with iridescent scales decorating their skin, antlered beings with shimmering fur, and others with wings that seemed to be crafted from the very leaves of the forest—all mingled in the vibrant atmosphere. Markets, constructed from leaves and trees emerging straight from the ground, showcased a dazzling array of goods: enchanting clothing, mystical items, and food sourced from mythical creatures.

The walkway, made of grey stone, led them further into the heart of the bustling city. Rows of homes, seamlessly blending bricks and trees in their construction, stood side by side. Laughter echoed through the air as humanoid and Elven children played together. Amidst it all, towering over the cityscape, stood a colossal tree, its branches reaching skyward as if attempting to touch the heavens, next to one giant moon that glowed a faint blue.

While Freya and her companions strolled through the lively city, a little elf boy suddenly pointed at them and then ran over, handing Freya a flower before darting away with a cheerful "Thank you." Freya, somewhat bewildered, questioned, "What was that about?" Jorma chuckled, "Oh, you really haven't been back in the capital for a while, have you? Living on the edges of the forest keeps you out of the loop. You're pretty much a legend to a lot of these people. Freya, the multi-talented mage who helped save the Elven kingdom from those invaders a while back."

Freya smiled slightly as Swiftfoot inquired, "So, how did you get so fast? Even in my prime, I don't think I could keep up with you." Responding quietly, Freya admitted, "I have been making deals. Many demi-gods and other divine creatures I have tracked down and made contracts with." She pulled back her robe, revealing a multitude of different runic seals on her body. Jorma looked horrified, exclaiming, "You must be insane for making deals with other gods. Atheria would not be pleased with this, not at all. Your quest for power has gone too far." Freya laughed, saying, "There is not much you can say or do to stop me. I only wish to get stronger to protect everyone. This is also why I don't like coming here. Too many eyes watching, very unsettling. As far as goddess Atheria is concerned, we can keep the contracts between us."

Swiftfoot recognized, "Ah, I see. So that transportation rune circle was from the demi-god of lightning. You called upon his powers with that circle, kind of like Blackthorn with his shield." Freya confirmed, "Yes, it took a lot of effort to make a contract with that demi-god. He took on the form of a yellow tiger, the size of ten elves, and was blessed with speed I could only hope to match. Luckily, he was not out for blood that day, and I held my own. As for the trees and winds talking, I found a young, impressionable fae girl to bless me, in exchange for a nice staff I had on me."

As they continued their conversation, they soon approached the towering tree, and the surroundings became less crowded. The majestic tree loomed above them as they neared the entrance to the capital tree, the very abode of Atheria, the goddess herself. A line of guards stood in formation, offering salutes to Freya and her companions as they advanced. The men exchanged glances, their attention piqued by the peculiar sight of the rock creature trailing behind, having left its carriage at the grand entrance stairs. The air around them carried an air of reverence as they ventured closer to the heart of the forest capital, where divine presence intertwined with the magic of nature.