The sun rose on a new day. Despite their losses, the elves had successfully defended the women and children from the barbarian assault. As the smoke dissipated, the women emerged from the lodge, shocked by the barren land before them. They murmured in disbelief at the battle's aftermath.

Arjana, carrying Menia and accompanied by Izzimar, stepped forward. Outside, the landscape was barren; trees, shrubs, and grass had vanished, leaving a lifeless expanse.

"What happened here?" she whispered. Izzimar sniffed the air and dashed off. "Izzimar, wait!" Arjana called, rushing after him, careful not to harm Menia.

"Where are you going!?"

"This scent... only lumen elves can cast such a potent spell of this level!," he calls back to her as he dashes towards the barren land. Hearing nothing ahead, he halts and searches for Birger.

"Birger?! Old man!" he yells into the void. Silence. No birdsong, no rustling wind, just an eerie quiet. Izzimar starts to whimper, then catches the familiar oak scent. "Birger...?" he whispers as Arjana reaches him, cradling Menia. She gazes at him, then they hear a faint mumbling in the distance. At the attack's heart, Birger prays over Baldur as he turns to ash.

Birger conjures a spell to capture the dying magic from Baldur's remains, raising it in the air.

Having completed the prayer, Birger transferred the energy into Menia, restoring her weakened, emaciated form to that of a healthy young elf. As she opened her eyes, she saw Arjana holding her and, in a slight panic, she pried herself from her arms. Standing on her feet, Menia surveyed her surroundings.

"It's okay... I'm not going to hurt you," Arjana reassured Menia, just as Trakka arrived and Birger produced a bag.

"What.... happened?" Menia inquired, her gaze eventually falling upon Baldur's charred remains. "No..." Birger's gaze shifted to Menia, who was now paralyzed with shock at the sight of her father, reduced to ashes.

"P-papa...?" Menia knelt beside him, her hands trembling as she dared to touch what was left of her father. When her finger lightly brushed his face, parts of it crumbled away.

"Papa... Papa! PAAAPPAAAA!" she screamed, before Trakka restrained her from collapsing onto her father's remains. In a desperate attempt to soothe Menia, Arjana held her close, tears streaming down her own face. As Menia wept, the other elves gathered to pay their respects, bowing their heads and chanting. This solemn assembly was observed by the other Parians with somber expressions. Izzimar remained unaffected by the grief until Birger joined in the chanting, catching him off guard. The elves stood united in mourning until midday.

-----

Hours later, the evening was spent in quietude. The women were busy patching up the elves and scavenging for supplies to assist them.

Meanwhile, Menia observed as Birger carefully and tenderly gathered the rest of Baldur's ashes into a bag. Arjana held Menia close, comforting the girl as she whimpered, witnessing her father's ashes being secured. Trakka observed in silence before finally shattering it.

"Birger... that's your name, right? What do we do now?" she asked reluctantly, adding, "We... we can't stay here."

"I know," Birger replied quickly, disturbed by her immediate concerns.

Sensing the mood, she fell silent. Much had transpired the previous night: a fierce battle with casualties on both sides. The elves had fulfilled Baldur's promise to protect the women and children. They had demonstrated their harmlessness to the Parians and their ability to defend them. It was a time for celebration; the elves had suffered only one loss. Even Lylfie, the elf wounded by a bullet at the battle's onset, had survived. There was also Grymm, who went into shock after fracturing his leg, he is expected to make a full recovery. Yet, Baldur's loss cast a pall over their victory.

After Birger had collected all of Baldur's remains, he handed them to Arjana.

"Hold these for Menia... until we reach Tir Na Nog.," he instructed before pulling a golden runestone from his pocket.

Arjana, still reeling from the battle's aftermath and uncertain of her thoughts, blurted out a question. "How... do we get there?"

"With this," he says, holding up the rune, "gather the rest of the women and elves. We'll depart before sundown," Birger adds before turning to walk away. Trakka stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait—"

"What now, woman!? You're not going to fight me on this too, are you!?" he shouts, startling Arjana as she holds Menia closer.

"No, no... I just have another concern, that's all—"

"What more could you possibly be concerned about!? An elf has already fought and died for your safety, WHAT MORE DO YOU EXPECT FROM US!?" Birger explodes, gripping the braid Baldur had given him.

Trakka remains silent as Birger rants, "We wanted food, nothing more... just food, and you don't trust us... Fine! I understand, but we fought for women and children who aren't even ours and paid the price!" He sighs before taking a deep breath. "Every death of an elf is a major blow to our population... the risk we took losing Baldur may not seem significant to you, but it could spell the end for us," he adds, his voice trailing off.

Trakka stays quiet, wishing to say something to ease his frustration, but she's unsure if he's in the mood for reconciliation. Izzimar steps forward and reaches for Birger's arm before grabbing hold of him.

"Birger... let's just... hear what she has to say first," he quietly suggests. With a frustrated sigh, Birger shrugs.

"My concern is... well... whether your leaders will accept us. After all, beings like you with great power must come from a very sacred land. If we go... would we be intruding...?"

Birger looks down, troubled by the reminder. Of course, the king and queen of the realm might be concerned about humans settling in their domain. Yes, they kindap women and children, but those are isolated incidents carried out by individual elves... But an entire settlement of humans? That would surely lead to conflict.

"....I don't know...", he says, sitting on the ground, exhausted.

"Well then... let's go," Arjana replied, hoisting Menia onto her back.

"Arjana-"

"We must go... if we don't, we'll never find out."

"Yes, but we must consider-"

"I want us to live in peace with the elves, right?! How can we do that if we stay here?" she argued, growing frustrated.

"Youngin'... you're being too hasty. These things take time."

"Well then... let me speak to the king and queen; surely we can agree on something?"

Birger scoffs, frustrated and tired. He truly wants peace between the elves and humans, but the situation is dire. The human women and children lack a proper monarch to represent them. Moreover, a group of starving elves is entirely dependent on human labor for survival. It's easy to bring them to the king and queen, but getting the people to listen... that's like asking a lamb to request an audience with a pack of starving wolves. He fears that once they enter Tir Na Nog, the elves, in desperation, might kidnap the Parians. If that happens, reconciliation between humans and elves will become impossible...

As Birger turned to Arjana, a wave of fear washed over him with the setting sun. Night was falling. He scanned the surroundings and realized they were without cover; no trees, bushes, or grass, just a battered lodge barely able to shelter them all. His heart sank as he looked up to find no moon following the sun's descent. "New moon..." he murmured in disbelief.

Without another word, he began to chant an incantation, making the golden runestone in his hand emit a growing light. The group retreated as the rune's radiance intensified, and with a toss from Birger, it burst into a blinding flash. As the light faded, two pillars adorned with runic symbols stood facing each other. Before Arjana could speak, Birger yelled,

"Attention! We're vulnerable out here! We must seek sanctuary in Tir Na Nog!"

The elves, upon glimpsing the pillars, showed reluctance.

"Will the Parians accompany us?", one of the elven women asked as she held her sons' hand.

"Yes, they will! Trust me, just pass through the rift!" Birger urged with urgency.

The elves glanced back at the Parians before walking hesitantly between the pillars, vanishing instantly. This startled the Parians, causing them to pause.

"They vanished?!" exclaimed a child.

"Are we going to the spirit realm? Will we perish?" another woman asked.

"HURRY, BEFORE MORE BARBARIANS ARRIVE!" Birger yelled at the top of his lungs. The Parians, unnerved by his aggression, some retreating a few steps, until Trakka reassured them. "Come on! They've protected us this far! Let's go!" Gradually, the Parians began to follow, passing between the pillars with their possessions, disappearing just as quickly.

"We must enter the rift swiftly."

"Is this what sorcery is?" Trakka inquired, scrutinizing the stones.

"Yes, Tir Na Nog exists on another plane, consider it a space between worlds," he explained briefly, then hurried Arjana along.

"Move quickly now!" he insisted, nudging Trakka ahead of him, causing her to vanish into the realm.

"Okay!" Arjana agreed, carrying Menia with Izzimar following closely.

Birger was the last, surveying the encroaching darkness. Blinking twice, he detected something afar. His sense of smell identified a familiar aroma. Before him loomed a shadowy entity with glowing red eyes. He glared at the being as it advanced slowly. Exhausted, Birger began to chant a spell as steady footsteps neared. As the figure became visible, he shouted, "Release!" and leaped back into the rift just as the pillars crumbled. The shadowy figure lunged at him but missed. It surveyed its surroundings before bellowing furiously, its roar echoing into the heavens.