Arjana stares in shock as blood oozes from Izzimar's wounds. Despite a few cuts and scrapes, he seems unharmed. Yet, the question lingers: who could have inflicted such injuries?

"We leave, immediately!" Izzimar exclaims, offering scant details.

Before Birger has the chance to inquire about the wounds, he notices a young boy clutching a bundle—a bag filled with food.

"By the gods, you didn't..." Birger mutters, rising swiftly.

Then, another commotion stirs from the bushes; Avvian emerges, hefting an entire hog on his back and another bag in his grasp.

"Hurry! We must leave now!" he insists, hastily heaving the hog into the wagon's rear before climbing onto the driver's seat. Frigg swiftly stows the remaining bags, then reaches out to pull Arjana into the wagon with her.

"Hurry, little one, hurry!" Frigg urges as she gently places Arjana beside her in the wagon. Birger assists Izzimar into the wagon as a large group of angry villagers, wielding weapons like pickaxes and pitchforks, emerges from the forest.

"I knew there had to be a bunch of them here!"

"Kill them, or others will settle near our village!" one of the men shouts.

The sight of the angry mob petrifies Arjana. She nearly freezes at the sight of so many people gathered to hunt just two elves. Many are armed, and some have ropes as they cautiously encircle the wagon.

"Be careful, if one can cast spells... we're dead," one of the men warns as they ready themselves to attack the wagon.

A memory flashes in Arjana's mind of a similar crowd long ago, when outsiders attempted to usurp her father's throne.

They intended to hang him and harm her and Monoko. Arjana recalled the outsiders' shouts and chants in the streets, "Kill the king! Paria is ours!" She remembered walking the streets, witnessing the slaughter of innocents by the outsiders after the uprising was quelled. Fortunately, her father managed to suppress them with his military. However, it was not an easy feat; the conflict lasted for months, and the outsiders had demolished many buildings. Despite her father's reassurances, she could never comprehend why people would resort to such lengths to wreak havoc...

Now, before her, the young girl witnessed what seemed like half the town poised to execute two elves for pilfering food. The villagers had stormed the wagon, brandishing their weapons, some even hurling their pitchforks in hopes of striking one of them.

"Kyunda!" Birger yelled, and suddenly, a blinding light erupted, engulfing everyone in its immediate vicinity in sheer whiteness.

Arjana squeezed her eyes shut, yet the heat from the light was palpable. Overwhelmed by the brightness, she coiled into a ball, attempting to shield herself from the light's intensity.

While hiding, Arjana heard the villagers' screams; some cried out in pain, others dropped their weapons. This chaos lasted about five minutes before the sounds began to fade as the group moved on. Cautiously, Arjana opened her eyes, relieved to find everyone safe in the moving wagon.

"What was that?" Arjana inquired, blinking against the afterglow.

"A light spell. It's so intense that humans can't withstand it, but it's too feeble to affect elves," Birger explained, settling back with a relieved exhale.

"You know spells?"

"Indeed. Most elves learn spellcasting," Birger said, then slumped over, exhausted.

"Mister Birger, are you alright?"

"I'll manage, youngin'. Spellcasting is draining, and I'm not young anymore—I'm 3,000 years past young."

Once again, they settled into silence.

"Did the villagers have a lot of food?" inquired Arjana.

"Yes, indeed, they had an abundance. We specifically visited this village because they host an annual festival where everyone roasts meat," Avvian elaborated.

"This is often our opportunity to secure some substantial food while we can. However, it seems they've caught on to our pattern and have begun to arm themselves," his wife interjected, soothing their fussing baby.

"Have you ever tried asking politely?" Arjana questioned.

"I did ask when I last visited here, explaining our dire situation," Frigg said, looking downcast as her husband continued.

"Years ago, we approached the village in search of sustenance. Frigg was with child then, expecting our first. I proposed labor in exchange for food and water. Alas, they demanded I teach them magic, which I declined. They rejected us... and we lost our child due to Frigg's severe malnutrition."

"Why did the humans desire magic?"

"Recall the tale I shared, youngin'," Birger interjected. "The man in that story wielded magic to dominate the other elves. Possessing magic can offer an advantage over other beings. But you're too young to grasp this," Birger expounded.

"... Will....anyone welcome the elves?"

"Not without a cost," Frigg added grimly. "And the price is often... exorbitant. Be it bonded labor or... the brothels."

Silence envelops the group while Arjana's confusion grows. The others are visibly distressed by their plight. They had barely managed to secure enough food for perhaps a week. Arjana longs to comprehend their struggle more, but her newness to their world hinders her. Childishly, she offers a naive solution:

"When I return home, if anything remains of my kingdom, I promise to welcome the elves. No one will ever go hungry!"

"Young one, even with your desires, I doubt it's as simple as that," Birger sighs.

"I am the princess of my kingdom, and my word is law!" asserts Arjana, trying to lift the spirits.

Her words draw laughter from Birger and Frigg, and even Avvian cracks a smile, though Izzimar remains silent.

"What's so funny?" inquires Arjana.

"Your innocence," he confesses, tousling her hair. "Just promise me one thing: never change," Avvian speaks as they journey on. "So, where to, Mr. Bramblewood?" he questions as Birger consults a map.

"Our destination is the seaport, Port Northwind."