The Strange Flowerpot (1)
In the corner of my room—more precisely, on the balcony—there was a small flowerpot that had been left to gather dust. It used to house a nameless little bonsai.
I didn't kill it, though. It was already in rough shape when the landlord asked me to look after it for a bit. I watered it and cared for it just as instructed. He seemed to know it wouldn't last long anyway; when I told him it had died, he just nodded nonchalantly and said he'd take it back home once his recent spat with his wife blew over.
So I just left it there. I'd even forgotten it existed. The only reason I noticed the bizarre change in that pot this time was because I was rummaging through the balcony junk looking for something else.
"It didn't die?"
I set down the laundry in my hands and sighed. The bonsai in front of me—definitely the one that had dropped all its leaves and withered away—was now sprouting a tiny new shoot at the tip of one branch.
Intrigued, I forgot about hanging up the laundry for a moment and stepped closer to the pot. Was this the power of a plant's vitality?
[Nameless Elf Hut]
"?!"
But the moment I approached the pot, some powerful repulsive force shoved my outstretched hand away from the bonsai. At the same time, bizarre letters floated up in front of my eyes.
I fell flat on my butt with a thud from the shock, but I was too stunned to even feel the pain. My mouth hung open, words failing me. It was clearly written in letters I could read, yet I couldn't make sense of the text hovering over the pot.
[Population: 01]
"What the hell is this..."
It was so absurd I muttered out loud, even though I lived alone with no one to hear. Something huge and inexplicable was happening in my flowerpot. There was no other way to see it.
A bug?
That's when I spotted something wriggling near the bonsai. It didn't look like any bug—the color was off, more like my own skin tone, which made it stand out.
No way.
As if entranced, I leaned in close and peered down. What I saw moving inside the pot was no bug. It was a person—a tiny one, with long golden hair and all four limbs. Right now, that person was doing something on the ground.
It was unbelievable, but it was happening right before my eyes. Still, no matter how hard I strained, I couldn't see it clearly. It was just too small. No magnifying glass in a single guy's apartment, so I grabbed my phone to try the camera zoom.
[Observation Possible: Scale Adjustment]
As if reading my mind, the text floating in defiance of physics offered exactly what I needed.
"Um, hello there?"
I could see it now. Crystal clear. Sitting awkwardly by the pot with it in my hands, I stupidly called out to it—to her.
But she didn't turn around. Could she not hear me? No, she didn't even seem to see me. Logically, a massive face dwarfing her body was looming from the sky, but she was just diligently scratching at the ground with a small twig in her hand.
"An elf."
I noticed her pointed ears under that shimmering blonde hair. Her distinctly non-human features, combined with the mysterious floating text calling it an Elf Hut, pointed to her identity.
Reasoning out the hows and whys felt pointless. I just kept watching her.
I couldn't even ask why she was here alone, since it didn't seem like words would reach her.
Is she hungry?
She'd been digging in the dirt, but suddenly rubbed her stomach, face scrunching up. Same gesture humans make when they're peckish. Though she wasn't human...
With all my focus locked on this oversized pot, I stood up and headed straight for the fridge.
...What do elves even eat?
Naturally, I froze in front of the fridge. Would an elf eat last night's leftover chicken? Cliches about elf diets flooded my mind, but elves were fictional. No guarantee a real one fit the tropes.
"She'll figure it out, right?"
After agonizing, I grabbed an apple. The landlord had shared them. No idea if real elves were vegan, but among my fridge contents, it was the most neutral and nature-friendly option. And as an intelligent being, she'd probably know what she could eat.
The issue was how to portion it small enough for her. At house-ant size, it'd take her a decade to finish a whole one.
[Exchange Possible: Scale Adjustment]
But this unknown power ruling my pot took care of that worry too.
[Item Transfer]
I held out the apple and lightly touched the shimmering text in the air. Whoosh—the apple vanished from my hand, reappearing inside the pot at normal size.
She must've taken a hit to the head; she rubbed it with a teary expression. Sorry about that. But spotting the rolling apple, her emerald eyes widened, and she looked up at the sky.
I flinched, but she wasn't looking at me. She was gazing at the bonsai—a massive tree from her perspective. Then, with dignified poise, she bowed politely to it in greeting.
Who knows what was going through her head, but she seemed to think the apple dropped from the tree itself.
[Nameless World Tree lv 1]
That explained why she treated the bonsai with such reverence.
"What the hell are you?"
Curiosity surging again, I reached toward the pot. Predictably, an irresistible force pushed my hand away—like opposing magnets.
My flowerpot was fully under this unknown power now. No clue why or what for. All I could do was watch, robbed of direct access.
Is she building a house?
Meanwhile, she scurried around the bonsai, grunting as she gathered dirt clumps and crumbled leaves, weaving them into a crude structure. It clearly had a roof.
But materials in a neglected pot were scarce and pitiful. In the end, I stood up again. Her tiny size meant unadjusted items might help more easily.
"Oh, no!"
Before I could fully rise, disaster struck. Something charged at her mid-construction—a massive... ant.
An ant matching her size, antennae twitching, barreling toward the startled elf. Must've been a resident of the pot. No wonder I'd seen one or two crawling around the house lately.
"She dodged."
She was agile. Face set, hair flying, she flipped acrobatically with her long limbs, evading the ant's lunge. Then she smashed a fist into its face.
The ant staggered but seemed barely hurt. They were tiny—my finger could crush both—but magnified, the fight looked tense and precarious. I worried she'd lose, get brutally torn by those jaws.
We'd "met" barely an hour ago, and she didn't even know I existed. Still, sorry ants, but a beautiful elf wins over pests any day.
She needs a weapon.
Unable to touch due to the repelling force, I watched her dodge effortlessly but land ineffective hits. She needed a weapon. What to give her?
My eyes fell on an old hanger I'd dismantled for recycling scrap. The thick steel pipe would pack a punch even in my hands.
[Item Transfer]
I grabbed it and held it to the pot. It shrank and dropped nearby, thankfully missing her head with a thud.
Understanding instantly, she glanced up with a smile, snatched the pipe, and swung it at the charging ant.