CHAPTER 82: PREPARATION

Fast forward three weeks since Auren had awoken...

Deep in the heart of Aetherhorn, nestled within a grove kissed by golden sunlight and veiled in ancient mist, stood a towering figure- a colossal humanoid Velzar Tree.

It rose gracefully from the earth, its bark gleaming with a faint emerald sheen, while its branches stretched skyward like open arms blessing the canopy above. The leaves shimmered with hues of jade and opal, casting a gentle glow that calmed the soul.

This was no ordinary tree- it was Queen Elarya, in her Grand Velzar form, silently standing sentinel beneath the protection of the Aetherthorn.

Elves moved around her in reverence. Some carefully pruned curling vines, others caressed the warm, bark-textured folds of her body with soothing chants. A few poured silvery liquid from ornate flasks into the soil around her roots- a sacred tonic brewed to keep her form vibrant and whole.

Before her, standing in respectful silence, were three figures: Mathes, now healed and cloaked in his golden warrior garb once more, and the rest of tribal leaders- Kardel and Rhiki.

Though their appearances hadn’t changed much, something in their presence had- a weight behind their gazes, a subtle shift in their stance. They were seasoned now. Scarred, perhaps, not just by battle, but by the weight of consequence.

All three stood with heads bowed, paying respect to the tree that was once their queen in flesh- and still was, in power and voice.

Elarya’s voice resonated not from a mouth but from the wind itself, as though the forest carried her every word through its leaves.

"Mathes. Any word regarding Auren’s recovery? " she asked.

Her tone was familiar- warm, motherly- but beneath it was an undeniable command, as if nature itself demanded an answer.

Mathes raised his head slightly, the scar under his eye still fresh.

"Yes, Queen Mother. I’ve spoken to Berthud... Auren started walking again last week. He’s eating well. Though the phoenix sigil on his chest seems to have vanished, he’s determined. The kid seems determined to return stronger than ever."

A rustle moved through the upper branches of the queen- perhaps her version of a nod.

"I am glad to hear it."

Mathes hesitated, his lips twitching as though weighed down by unspoken thought.

"You seem troubled," the queen observed. "Speak."

He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It’s... not just about Auren’s recovery, Queen Mother. As you know, it’s been three years since we took him in. Most of our people understand what he did at Inferna Hollow. They respect it. But complaints are rising- especially from the mana potion crafters. They are expensive after all."

He paused, then added, "They want to know... how long we’ll keep supporting a human child who consumes our resources."

The words settled over the clearing like a stormcloud of ash- thick, suffocating, and impossible to ignore.

"There is no need for it."

But the answering voice wasn’t Elarya’s.

All eyes turned at once, heads swiveling toward the source of the voice.

Just outside the stone ring that marked the heart of the Grand Velzar, Auren stood quietly.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting shifting patterns across his face and shoulders.

For a heartbeat, some of the elders saw the boy they remembered- the one broken and barely breathing weeks ago. But that version of him was gone.

What stood before them now was someone changed. Still wrapped in healing guages, yes... but standing tall. Sharper. More grounded. And perhaps, quietly dangerous in a way they hadn’t noticed before.

His tunic was simple- just soft linen, the kind worn for comfort. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, revealing arms still wrapped in gauze. The bandages hinted at the toll his body had taken, but his movements said otherwise.

He didn’t limp. He didn’t falter. There was something steady in the way he moved, like someone who’d grown used to carrying pain and had decided it wouldn’t carry him anymore.

At his side walked Jaira, clinging to a worn leather satchel like it was a shield. She looked nervous — pale, even- and every step seemed hesitant.

Her shoulders were stiff and her eyes flicked constantly between the tribal leaders and the queen. She wasn’t supposed to be here, and she knew it. Standing in this circle wasn’t just rare for someone like her- it was unheard of.

They moved together, crossing into the grove with careful reverence, the hush of leaves and whispers following their every step. The murmurs of the elves faded into silence as Auren approached the center of the circle, stopping just a few meters from the base of the colossal tree-queen.

He bowed deeply, his voice calm and strong as he spoke.

"I greet the Queen Mother."

The sincerity in his tone cut through the tension like a cleansing wind.

Jaira quickly mirrored the gesture, though her hands trembled as they touched the ground in formal respect. Her hair fell over her face, hiding the nervous flush on her cheeks.

Above them, a soft glow shimmered through the canopy as a branch of silver-green leaves gently swayed. It was Elarya’s way of responding- a silent nod from a being who no longer needed spoken words to command reverence.

Auren straightened slowly, eyes sweeping across the gathering of tribal leaders and elders, his gaze unwavering.

Though he had just spoken a few words, it was clear: he wasn’t here to waste their time.

He was here for something else.

"First of all, I would like to thank you all, especially the Queen Mother, for your kindness. For taking care of me, even when I could not return the favor yet."

His words echoed through the grove, silencing idle whispers. Though many had heard the stories- how Auren had helped stop Vulkris from killing the queen and the leaders- there were still those whose eyes held resentment.

Elves who saw only a fragile, foreign boy devouring precious resources.

"I know that caring for me has not been easy. Especially with the amount of mana potions required to keep me alive. But I assure you that I will make-"

"There is no need for that," Elarya’s voice interrupted, gentle but firm.

Several elders stirred, clearly disagreeing. One elder with a vine-woven staff stepped forward.

"Queen Mother, if he is offering repayment... should we not consider it? It would help recover our losses-"

"Do not make me repeat myself."

Her tone shifted- sharp, cutting. The elder immediately recoiled. No one dared to interrupt again.

Auren smiled inwardly.

"I have a good feeling about this...’