Wrong Script, Right Love
Chapter 31: Pointy-Eared Negotiations
CHAPTER 31: POINTY-EARED NEGOTIATIONS
[Dense Forest—Deeper In—Leif’s Pov]
The air shifted the moment we crossed the threshold of trees. The crisp bite of mountain wind was gone, smothered by a damp heaviness that clung to the skin. Mist curled at the roots, weaving around our boots as if the forest itself meant to swallow us whole.
Branches creaked above us, the sound like whispers slipping through the mist. I stuck close to Alvar, one hand on the crimson wolves’ fur, the other gripping my cookie-crumbed bag like it contained holy relics.
"Okay, okay, maybe my magic words didn’t work," I whispered dramatically. "But what if the elves are just testing us? Like... waiting to see if we’re worthy?"
Alvar didn’t even glance back. "If they’re testing anyone, it’s me. Not your absurd chanting."
I opened my mouth for a retort—but then something strange happened.
The horse behind us halted. Its ears twitched, then pinned flat. The wolves froze too, hackles raised, glowing eyes narrowing into the mist.
"Huh? What’s wrong, boys?" I whispered.
Alvar scanned the air, his expression unreadable. "As I thought. There are medicinal herbs here. Rare ones."
I blinked. "Herbs? That’s what you’re worried about? Our boys are having a nervous breakdown, my wolves are acting like they saw a ghost, and you’re thinking about salad ingredients?"
Alvar ignored. "Let’s move forward."
I sighed and trailed after him, mumbling, "The old men said only a human with no greed can enter the elves’ territory. Now I wonder—what kind of human has no greed at all?"
"Perhaps one who thinks of others before himself," Alvar replied simply.
"Oh." I nodded sagely, pretending I understood the meaning of life—then promptly tripped over the gnarled root of a giant tree and faceplanted into the mud.
"AGHHHHH!"
"Leif!" Alvar was at my side instantly, kneeling and lifting me up. His hands cupped my face, his eyes sharp with worry.
"My nose!" I wailed, sniffling. "It’s ruined! My knees too—bleeding! This is the tragic downfall of a legendary adventurer in the very first Chapter!"
Alvar brushed the mud from my face, dead serious. "You’re not ruined. You’re still pretty."
I ignored him and glared at the offending root. My eyes narrowed. My fists clenched. Then I stood, pointed dramatically, and kicked the tree with all the righteous fury of a betrayed hero.
"You bastard! This is your fault! My beautiful knees are bleeding because of you! I was destined for greatness, but YOU—wiggly, jiggly, slippery, slimy, sneaky, scheming, tree-root DEMON—have sabotaged me!"
Alvar froze. The wolves froze. Even the horse froze. All three pairs of eyes stared at me with the exact same expression: dumbfounded disbelief.
And then—
SHIIINNNNNEEEEEEEEEE!
The forest rippled like water. Light burst through the mist, branches shimmering as if the entire world inhaled at once.
I immediately ducked behind Alvar, clutching his cloak. "Wh-what now? Did the tree god get offended by my curse? Is he sending his lumberjack angels for revenge?"
Alvar drew his sword, calm but firm. "Stay behind me."
And then—two figures emerged, tall and imposing. Their cloaks of illusion dissolved, revealing long limbs, sharp features, and ears so pointy they could probably slice cheese. The elves.
"You... wretched humans," one of them thundered, voice like rolling steel. "How did you discover the spell that conceals our sacred door?"
I peeked out from behind Alvar, my eyes going wide. "...They’re taller than you, Grand Duke. Do you think they can, um... flick us into orbit with one finger?"
The elves’ golden eyes narrowed. "Answer. Who among you broke our illusion?"
Alvar’s grip on his sword tightened. His voice was cold and steady. "It was not intentional. Show yourselves properly before—"
I leaned around him. "Illusion spell? You mean... that sparkly light show just now?"
Both elves glared, faces carved from stone.
I gasped dramatically. "Oh my gods. Don’t tell me—my curse words were actually... a magic password?!"
"Leif..." Alvar said.
I sighed and slipping out from behind him, I bent into a hasty bow. "I’m sorry, mighty sirs of... pointy elegance. I swear I didn’t mean to offend your sacred tree. And I definitely didn’t know my ranting counted as spellwork. But—well—fate works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? Looks like it’s brought us together."
The elves studied me in silence, their tall forms haloed by mist. Their golden eyes gleamed sharp as unsheathed blades. At last, one spoke, his voice deep and solemn, carrying the weight of ancient roots.
"You stand where no mortal should tread. This wood has been sealed from human eyes for a hundred years. The spell was woven to endure—and yet you, a restless tongue, broke it. You are... sharp, for a human."
I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. "Haha... yes, well, who knew ’wiggly-giggly-siggly’ was such a powerful spell?"
The second elf’s gaze slid toward my crimson wolves, who at that exact moment tried to look fierce but ruined it by sneezing twin puffs of frost from their noses.
"You walk with beasts of fire and blood. Creatures that bow to none. Tell us, human... did you truly tame them?"
"Oh." I turned to my wolves, who wagged their tails in perfect, treacherous unison. "Uh... yes. Yes, I did."
The elves exchanged a glance, silent as statues. Then, with a slight nod, one spoke again. "Very well. Both of you—humans—will come to our village. There are matters that must be spoken."
Alvar lowered his sword at last, though his stance stayed taut with suspicion. His voice cut the air like a drawn blade. "Convenient. We have business with you as well. But tell me—" his eyes hardened into frost, "why should we trust your words? What proof do we have that this isn’t a trap?"
The elves scoffed. "Proof? Your kind is forever drunk on doubt. Listen well, human—we are not like you. We do not harm for greed, nor kill for power. If we had wished your death, you would already lie as corpses beneath these roots."
"Comforting," Alvar muttered flatly.
And just like that, we followed them into the forest—into the shimmering veil of their illusion.
***
[Elves Village—Later]
As we entered into the elves’ world, it wasn’t as I imagined... no shining crystal palaces or floating lights, just a quiet, simple village with wooden homes tucked between towering trees. Elves walking about with baskets of herbs as if heading to market. Ordinary—except for their piercing golden eyes that made me feel as if they could strip me down to skin and bone.
Now we sat inside one of those wooden houses. The air smelled faintly of cedar and smoke. One of the elves set two carved wooden cups of water before us and took their place across the table. Their gazes, however, were fixed not on me, but on the crimson wolves sprawled lazily across the floor like oversized rugs.
"Thank you," I said, lifting the cup.
They didn’t reply. Their eyes lingered on my wolves.
"May I know what business you have with us?" I asked.
One of them finally spoke, his voice even and solemn. "The Crimson Beasts... we would ask that you leave some of their kind in our village."
I furrowed my brows. "Elves wanting beasts? Why?"
The elf’s golden gaze slid back to me.
"For you, they may be nothing more than companions or weapons. For us... they are guardians. Holy creatures. Their shed fur cures the fever dreams that plague our young. And a drop of their blood, freely given, strengthens the weak, granting stamina to those on the edge of death."
Alvar frowned, his voice edged with doubt. "But aren’t you elves supposed to have unmatched knowledge of herbs and medicine? Why would you need their blood and fur at all?"
One of the elves turned his golden eyes toward him, calm but firm. "Yes, we are blessed with wisdom of roots and remedies. But we are not gods. Even we falter, and sometimes our cures fail."
The second elf leaned forward, tone edged with urgency. "And currently, our children are sick. A werid Fever has spread through the village. Without the Crimson, they will not last the winter."
I blinked, staring down at my wolves—my crimson babies, who had now decided this was the perfect moment to roll over and sneeze snowflakes across the floor. I never thought they would be so important... sacred, even, to elves.
"Alright. You can have their fur, their blood—whatever you need to heal your children." I leaned back in my chair. "But nothing comes free. You’ve asked for a miracle..." My eyes gleamed. "Now it’s our turn to propose a deal."
And just like that, the true negotiations began.