Elysia
Chapter 8: A Palace of Starlight and a Simple Meal

Elina followed Elysia in a reverent silence. Each of the Ruler of Hell’s steps left no trace upon the soft grass, as if she were an embodied wind. They walked away from the stream, deeper into the embrace of the forest at the foot of the World Tree. Elina had to take a small jog every now and then to keep up with Elysia’s calm yet steady pace, her small hand never letting go of the grey pebble that was her anchor in this strange new world.

The forest around the World Tree was unlike any ordinary wood. The trees were so tall their canopies formed a green ceiling, pierced by sacred pillars of sunlight. Flowers Elina had never seen before glowed with a soft, internal light, and the air was filled with the scent of moss, damp earth, and an indescribable magic.

After walking for several minutes, Elysia stopped in a large, circular clearing directly before the main trunk of the World Tree, which was as massive as a fortress. The place was perfect. Peaceful, sheltered, and radiating a pure, vital energy. A fitting spot for a very, very long retirement.

Elysia didn’t look back, but she was aware of the small, panting breaths behind her. She could feel the fatigue from the tiny body. In 9000 years, she had never needed to consider the needs of another creature. But now, there was a new variable. A small, fox-eared variable.

"Are you tired?" Elysia asked, her melodic voice breaking the forest's silence.

Elina flinched, startled that the question was directed at her. She could only nod meekly, too shy to speak.

"Good," Elysia said, as if that answer was the confirmation she needed. She finally turned, looking at Elina with her distant, galaxy-like eyes. "In that case, we will need a place to rest."

She raised her pale, elegant hand to shoulder height. Elina watched with bated breath, expecting to witness a complex magic ritual like the one Archmage Gideon had attempted.

But Elysia simply snapped her fingers.

CLICK.

The sound of the snap was crisp and quiet in the vast forest. Its effect, however, was something that would be forever etched into Elina's memory.

The ground beneath their feet trembled gently. From the flat, grassy surface, pillars of pure crystal began to grow upwards like plant shoots in a time-lapsed motion. The pillars were not clear, but emitted an internal light with the colors of the aurora borealis—sky blue, jade green, and violet purple that constantly danced and swirled within the crystal. Walls grew, connecting to one another with impossible precision, forming halls and corridors. Slender crystal towers shot towards the sky, spiraling like frozen light, their peaks seeming to touch the lowest branches of the World Tree.

In less than a minute, where there had once been only an empty meadow, a palace now stood.

It was not a palace of stone or wood. It was a palace woven from starlight and dreams. Its large, arched windows contained no glass, but instead looked like captured nebulae, swirling slowly with glittering cosmic dust. The roof was made of a darker crystal, resembling a clear night sky, complete with points of light that twinkled like real stars. The entire structure radiated an aura of tranquility and majesty so powerful it made the World Tree itself look like its personal garden.

Elina stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape. Her large, golden-brown eyes reflected the dance of colors from the crystal palace. Even the most beautiful fairy tale she had ever heard could not possibly describe the magic she had just witnessed. The pebble in her hand felt heavy and real, the only reminder that she wasn't dreaming.

"Let's go inside," Elysia said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she had just made a bed, not created a cosmic architectural masterpiece. She walked toward the large, arched door, which opened on its own as she approached.

Hesitantly, Elina followed her in. If the exterior was astonishing, the interior was utterly sense-numbing. The floor was made of obsidian so smooth and black it perfectly reflected the ceiling above, creating the illusion that they were walking on a field of stars. There were no torches or lamps; the entire palace glowed from within itself with a soft, gentle light. The furniture was just as strange and beautiful—chairs that looked carved from solid moonlight, tables like frozen vortices of mist, and curtains like silver spiderwebs.

Elysia walked through the vast main hall, her steps making no echo at all in the silent space. She stopped before a corridor. In her mind, a practical thought process was running. This child is the payment for my peace. For that peace to manifest, this variable must be stable. Children require three things: a bed, food, and a sense of security. If these three are met, they will not be a bother.

She turned to Elina. "You need a room," she stated as a fact.

She opened a crystal door, revealing an empty room still glowing with an auroral light. She looked at Elina. "What do you like?"

The question confused Elina. No one had ever asked what she liked. She was too shy and scared to answer, so she just looked down and unconsciously glanced out the large window in the room, toward the moon that was beginning to rise in the sky.

Elysia followed her gaze. The moon and stars. Simple.

She raised her hand again, this time with just a small wave. In the center of the room, a bed began to form from soft, silver clouds. A wardrobe made of wood as pale as birch appeared near the wall. In another corner, a small desk with a chair, a few sheets of clean paper, and charcoal for drawing materialized out of thin air. And most importantly, before the large window, a cushioned window seat was created, the perfect spot for a quiet child to sit and watch the world outside.

"Your clothes," Elysia said, pointing to the wardrobe.

Curiously, Elina approached it and opened the doors. Inside hung rows of simple dresses, but they were made of the softest cotton and linen she had ever touched. The colors were soft too—pale blue, mint green, cream, and lavender. It was a world away from the scratchy brown dress that had been her second skin for years.

Elysia then snapped her fingers one more time. On the small desk in the room, a tray appeared. Not a grand feast, but a far more tempting meal. A bowl of warm, golden porridge, giving off a sweet scent of cinnamon and honey. A glass of milk that seemed to shimmer. And a few berries, the same kind she had eaten in the carriage.

"Eat," Elysia said. "That is your first duty."

Elina sat on the small chair, feeling awkward amidst this sudden luxury. She picked up the silver spoon, which felt strange in her hand, and hesitantly scooped up some porridge. As it touched her tongue, her eyes widened again. It was warm, sweet, and so delicious. This wasn't food for survival; this was food made to be enjoyed. She ate in silence, slowly, savoring every spoonful.

Elysia watched the child eat, like a scientist observing a new specimen. She felt no affection or tenderness. What she felt was the satisfaction of a problem being efficiently solved. The child was fed, clothed, and given a comfortable place. Logically, she should have no reason to cry or complain. Her peace was assured.

As Elina was finishing her meal, Elysia asked another question to break the silence. "That stone you're holding. Is it important?"

Elina stopped eating and looked down at the grey pebble in her lap. She nodded. In a voice that was barely a whisper, she answered, "It's my friend. I tell it things."

That answer, somehow, touched something very ancient within Elysia. A normal person might have felt pity. But Elysia, who had spent nine thousand years in absolute solitude with the singular goal of survival, understood it perfectly. She understood what it meant to find comfort in the inanimate, in silence, in total self-reliance. For the first time, she saw a flicker of herself in this child.

She knows how to be alone, Elysia thought. Good. That will make everything easier.

"Your duties for now are simple, Elina," Elysia said, her voice a little softer than before, though still distant. "Eat when you are hungry. Sleep when you are tired. And do not get into trouble. Can you do that?"

For Elina, who was used to an endless list of chores from morning till night, that "duty" was the greatest luxury she could imagine. She nodded enthusiastically, her large eyes shining with sincerity.

That night, after Elysia had shown her a magical bath where the water was always perfectly warm, she left Elina alone in her room.

Elina stood in the middle of the dream-like room. She touched the soft, cloud-like bed, stroked the gentle fabric of the dresses in the wardrobe. She walked to the window seat and sat down, hugging her knees. From here, she could see the moonlit forest and the stars, which seemed so much closer and brighter. This palace didn't feel cold or frightening. It felt… calm. Like the inside of her pebble, but much, much bigger.

She crawled onto the bed, which immediately molded itself to her small frame. She pulled up a blanket that felt like warm mist. She held her stone tightly to her chest. She didn't know if she was a prisoner or a guest, a price or a prize. But for the first time in her short, difficult life, she felt safe. She felt warm.

In the palace of starlight, at the foot of the World Tree, under the watch of the magnificent Ruler of Hell, Elina finally fell asleep without a nightmare.