Elfing Elf knew something was wrong before he reached the town. The road leading into it showed no signs of wear. Ruts in the earth held their shape too precisely. Footprints ended at the same distance from the gate, as if no one had walked…

Elfing Elf walked most days without a fixed destination. He followed routes that made sense to him in ways he rarely examined, paths shaped by repetition rather than intention. Roads that curved instead of cutting straight. Bridges crossed at certain hours, avoided at others. He…

Days passed by... Elfing Elf was resting near the edge of a market square when the air began to change. It cooled first, just enough for people to notice, then settled into a stillness that made the sounds of the square carry farther than usual.

...Some memories refuse clarity. This is one of them... I am called Elfing Elf. The name has outlived its meaning, but it remains serviceable. I keep it because nothing else remains. I was not meant to find this crystal. It lay beneath the roots of…