Chapter 483 – The Elf and the Oak Tree

“Moira, can Greta get Aramir to sign the Dawn Society Invitation?”

Vasida and Mo Lan stood by the window of their room, gazing at the Gold Globe Flower Inn across the street.

“I don’t know,” Mo Lan said. “But she’s certainly our best option right now.”

“Let’s go next door for dinner tonight!” Vasida suggested. “We can check on how Greta’s been doing. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen her—I wonder how she’s getting on…”

“Mm.” Mo Lan could only track Greta’s location through the hidden trick embedded in the Dawn Society Trial Card in her possession.

And by observing how she completed her tasks, Mo Lan inferred that she was getting along well with the other mages.

The fact that Greta would end up working there was something Mo Lan had divined beforehand using Divination Magic.

*

Greta took advantage of the lull during the afternoon when no one was dining in the restaurant to go find Yurian at the carriage shed.

“Why do you think the inn next door has such terrible business?

It’s actually always been that bad. Who’d want to stay at an inn whose owner is an elf that won’t let guests eat meat on the premises!

I’ve heard recently that the elf is planning to sell the inn and leave Lance City. Apparently he’s insisting that the buyer can’t touch the trees and flowers in the courtyard.

It hasn’t sold yet, of course, but who knows when he might just shut the place down. Naturally, guests aren’t keen on staying there anymore,” Yurian said.

“That’s strange. If he treasures the trees and flowers in the courtyard so much, why would he want to leave Lance City?” Greta wore a thoroughly puzzled expression.

“I hear the Elven Woods have been unstable lately—locked in a fierce battle with the Kingdom of Elwiss. A lot of the mages staying at our inn are from Elwiss, actually! That elf probably wants to go back and check on his homeland.”

Yurian’s thoughts drifted to his own hometown, and he sighed. “Who wouldn’t want to return home in glory?”

With how poorly he was doing now, how could he possibly go back?

He had once believed that getting into a mage initiation school and becoming a mage meant he’d be a cut above the rest—a distinguished noble.

Who would have thought that he might spend his entire life as a lowly apprentice?

Life as a bottom-rung apprentice might not even be as good as that of certain wealthy merchants.

“It won’t always be like this,” Greta consoled him.

“I hope so,” Yurian said.

Greta helped him feed the few horned horses before leaving the stable.

Walking to the front of the inn, she glanced across the street at the Oak Inn. Beneath the old oak tree, a familiar figure seemed to be crouching.

That elf owner had gone to talk to the oak tree again.

After a moment’s thought, Greta walked over and called to him from outside the neighboring courtyard. “Mr. Elf, are you talking to the oak tree?”

Aramir had given up on finding a new owner for the inn and was preparing to simply sell it to the Marquis. At the moment, he was apologizing to the old oak tree.

Hearing the voice, he turned around and saw a young mage with eyes full of curiosity, wearing the server’s uniform from the Gold Globe Flower Inn next door. Thinking that his inn might one day become part of the Gold Globe Flower Inn, he said:

“That’s right. This is my friend Yar—an oak tree that has developed a spirit of its own.”

Greta couldn’t quite fathom the mindset of being friends with a tree, but that didn’t stop her from following the elf’s lead to open up a conversation.

She looked at the old oak tree as if greeting it and said, “Yar! Hello there!”

Then she turned back to the elf to confirm: “Mr. Elf, can it understand what we’re saying?”

“Of course! It’s been here for over a hundred years and has heard plenty of people talk!” Aramir said with a smile.

If only someone from the Gold Globe Flower Inn would keep it company and chat with it after he left.

With that thought, he said to the curious little mage, “Would you like to talk to Yar?”

“Really? Can I?” Greta’s eyes lit up at once.

Aramir gestured for her to come over. “Here—do as I do and place your hand on Yar.”

Greta did as instructed, then suddenly felt a strange energy fluctuation nearby. It wasn’t psychic power—there was also wood-element energy gathering. She turned her head sharply. “Mr. Elf!”

The elf was casting a spell!

If not for her instincts telling her there was no danger, she would have bolted.

She was just a mage apprentice—any random attack spell could end her life.

“It’s Wood Speech,” Aramir explained. “It lets you briefly communicate with plants.”

Only then did Greta relax, allowing the spell to settle over her. Immediately, she felt a subtle connection form between herself and the tree.

Amid the rustling of leaves, a cheerful voice seemed to say to her:

“Hello there, little human girl!”

“Hello, Yar!” Greta said, full of wonder. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Greta.”

Now she understood why the elf had become friends with a tree—it could actually talk!

“Greta~ You’re the second little girl named Greta I’ve ever met!

Let me think… Back then, I was only as tall as the rooftop. Every time she came to collect acorns, she’d tuck a flower into my bark.

Sometimes it was a daisy, sometimes a lily of the valley, sometimes a wild rose…

Look, the crevice she always used is still there!

Aramir would always sneak over after she left and pull the little daisies out.

If you ask me, flowers tucked into my cracked bark looked quite pretty!

But he said it would affect my growth. What a killjoy…”

“Yar, talking about people behind their backs isn’t a good habit, you know!” Aramir said crossly.

“I’m not talking behind your back—I’m stating facts!”

“Look at your bark. It’s all cracked precisely because people kept prying it open to stick flowers in.”

“I think it looks just fine this way!”

…

The elf and the oak tree had started bickering.

Greta: “…”

This wasn’t quite what she’d imagined friendship between them would look like!

So Mr. Elf spent all that time under the tree… because he was arguing with the oak tree?

“Greta, when you have time in the future, could you come talk to Yar more often?”

Aramir suddenly asked. “Even though I might not be able to cast Wood Speech for you by then, Yar can still hear you. It’ll secretly rustle its leaves in response.”

“Mr. Elf, are you leaving?” Greta asked.

“Yes. I’m going back to the Elven Woods. I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to return. I just can’t stop worrying about Yar—worried it’ll be lonely, worried someone will chop it down,” Aramir said.

“What’s there to worry about? Just take my acorns back to the Elven Woods and plant them. Before long, I’ll grow into a big tree again,” the oak tree said.

“But that wouldn’t be you anymore,” Aramir said.

“Then take one of my branches with you. Think of it as me going back with you.”

Aramir shook his head. “A branch is just a dead thing… What meaning would it hold?”

“Mr. Elf, isn’t there some kind of magical item that could let you bring Yar back to the Elven Woods?” Greta asked.

(End of Chapter)