After that, Hazal led them down a quieter path, curving gently around a patch of overgrown herbs and mossy rocks. At the end stood a small, round hut with a thatched roof, vines and flowers draped over the sides, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze.
Sunlight filtered through a narrow crack above, casting a warm beam across the hut. The air smelled of crushed leaves, dried bark, and something faintly floral—wild and earthy, yet calming.
Hazal pushed aside a curtain of woven reeds, revealing a warm, dimly lit space inside. The curved walls were packed with shelves holding glass jars, wooden boxes, and bundles of dried herbs. A low cauldron bubbled gently at the center, suspended above a carefully tended flame.
An elderly elf woman sat beside it, sorting pale stems and clipping their ends with delicate scissors. Her silver braid hung over her shoulder, and though her face bore the lines of age, her expression was calm and focused.
"This is Elder Elluin," Hazal said softly. "Our herbalist."
The old woman looked up slowly. Her voice was quiet but steady. "So these are the ones you came with."
Tony gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, that's us."
Her gaze didn't falter. "Good."
She reached for a shallow wooden tray and picked up a cluster of small plants. Their thin leaves glowed faintly, halos of white light ringing the petals. The glow was soft, like morning mist catching sunlight.
"These are starroots," she explained. "Delicate. Touch them wrong, and they lose their essence."
She placed a few into a stone bowl and began grinding them with a smooth pestle. A thin white mist rose—not magical, but filled with an earthy purity. She added a few drops of water, and the mixture turned into a pale, glowing paste.
John and Tony watched silently, their eyes fixed on her every move.
When the paste was ready, she scraped it into the bubbling cauldron. The liquid hissed for a moment, then settled, the surface rippling like water touched by a breeze.
"Every plant has a purpose," she said. "You just have to know the element to use it the right way."
John leaned closer. "You're not just mixing ingredients. You're pulling something out of them. Is it the essence?"
John wasn't knowledgeable; he only knew a little about potion-making from the novels and anime he had seen before.
Elder Elluin just gave a faint smile.
"Do you teach this?" John asked.
"To those who have the hands for it," she replied. "And the patience."
She stirred the mixture gently, then leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes for a moment as a breeze rustled the doorway curtain.
Hazal motioned for them to step outside. "Come on. I'll show you where you can rest."
Outside, the grove was peaceful. The air felt cooler, fresher.
"Why don't you rest first? I need to meet with the elders," Hazal said gently.
John nodded, though his mind was still caught up in what he had seen.
It's an excellent opportunity to learn potion-making, he thought, thankful he'd accepted Hazal's invitation.
After settling John and Tony into a small wooden hut, Hazal turned and headed deeper into the heart of the settlement.
---
The path led her to a much larger structure—an impressive wooden hut easily the size of a two-story building. It stood proudly in a wide clearing, surrounded by rows of vibrant flowers. Thick vines climbed up its tall pillars, and the thatched ceiling had several openings where sunlight poked through like gentle fingers of gold. The mix of light and shade gave the space a warm, mellow feel. It wasn't as dim as the blacksmith's forge, but not too bright either—just enough to make everything comfortably visible.
Hazal stepped inside.
The interior was vast, the air carrying a soft scent of herbs, wood polish, and a faint trace of incense. Four elderly elf women sat in a half-circle on intricately carved wooden seats. Each had an air of calm wisdom, their eyes sharp despite their years.
Hazal immediately recognized two of them: Elder Elluin from the potion hut and Master Aravelle, the blacksmith with short silver hair and intricate runes etched into her sleeves. The third woman wore a deep green hooded robe, her staff resting beside her chair—clearly a mage. And the fourth had a long, curved sword strapped across her back. Her braided hair was streaked with silver, and her posture straight as a warrior's.
Hazal stood tall, bowing slightly in greeting. "Elders."
The one with the sword—Elder Caelira, the settlement's guardian—spoke first, her voice cool and direct. "We heard you fought the Wood Serpent. Alone."
Hazal hesitated. "Yes… but—"
Elder Aravelle's brow furrowed. "Do you understand the danger of that beast? You could've been killed. That was not a decision to make lightly."
Hazal stepped forward. "I know. But I wasn't alone."
They looked at her sharply.
Hazal continued, her tone steady. "The Wood Serpent is dead. It was defeated."
The four elders exchanged glances. Elder Elluin blinked in surprise. "Defeated?"
Hazal nodded. "John—one of the two travelers I brought—he was the one who killed it. I only supported him. He faced it head-on."
The room fell quiet for a moment. The mage, Elder Thalira, leaned forward slightly, her green eyes sharp beneath her hood. "You're certain?"
"I saw it with my own eyes. His strength… it's not ordinary."
Elder Caelira's expression shocked with disbelief. "A person from an unknown race killed the Wood Serpent alone?"
Hazal nodded. "Yes."
She took a breath before continuing. "That's why I brought them here. They're not just curious wanderers. I believe we should get to know them—not as outsiders, but as potential allies… maybe even friends."
Elder Elluin folded her hands, thoughtful. "You trust them?"
"I do. They didn't ask for help. They didn't demand anything. They were grateful, respectful, and honest. I believe they have much to offer. And much to learn."
Elder Aravelle gave a long sigh. "I suppose I did feel something… an unusual aura about the taller one—John."
Elder Thalira nodded slowly. "There's more to them than we see. Perhaps we should observe."
Hazal straightened. "That's all I ask."
The elders went quiet, their expressions unreadable. A breeze moved through the open windows, rustling the leaves outside and filling the room with a gentle hush.
At last, Elder Caelira gave a faint nod. "Very well. We'll let them stay… for now. But we will be watching."
Hazal bowed. "Thank you, Elders."
As she turned to leave, a small smile crept onto her face.
They'll see, she thought. John and Tony aren't just curious travelers. They're the beginning of something new.
And with that, she stepped out into the sun-dappled grove once more.