Market Skewers and a Royal Invitation
"Kar, I'm gonna wander around alone today, so you head back to your territory and rest."
Kar blinked.
"......Pardon?"
Kar stared at me for a long moment before cautiously opening his mouth.
"Um...... Can I really go?"
"Yeah."
"......And I don't have to do anything?"
"That's what a vacation is, dummy."
Kar stood there with a blank expression for a bit. He looked like he wanted to ask more, or maybe he was just frozen in shock.
In the end, he slowly unfurled his wings, gave a mighty flap! to catch a downdraft, and took off.
"......I-I'll be back!"
His voice was trembling—whether from emotion or bewilderment, who knows.
I watched his retreating figure for a moment before turning away. I was heading out anyway.
Standing on the nest's railing and peering down, the breeze felt perfect. I wanted to fly for real.
Pew! My human body dissolved into black mist, and my viewpoint soared upward. I slowly spread my six wings, letting the wind slip beneath my feathers.
Paaah!
It had been ages since I'd flown solo.
Riding on Kar's back wasn't bad—comfy and toasty. But it was a whole different vibe from flying myself. The wind whispering between my feathers, the buoyant lift spreading through my entire body when I caught an updraft... you couldn't feel that from a backseat ride.
This is flying.
I rode an updraft higher, watching the World Tree's peak shrink below me. A stray cloud wisped by, brushing my wingtip with a chill, damp kiss that vanished as quickly as it came.
I meandered aimlessly for a while, dipping low here, half-folding my wings for a dive there.
Aaah, this feels amazing.
Squinting down at the world below on this clear day, my view stretched endlessly far. Glancing lower, something familiar caught my eye.
Near the World Tree's roots, far down, a fortress sprawled out. I'd glimpsed it from afar when I moved in; Kar later said it was where the elves lived.
As I descended, a sweet, nutty aroma mingled with the breeze.
Wonder what elf food tastes like.
The thought had barely formed when my wings instinctively banked that way—but as I dropped altitude, I spotted my shadow blanketing the forest floor.
Crashing in at this size? Total chaos.
I perched on a sturdy branch well away from the kingdom and shifted to human form.
Pew! Black mist billowed midair, and my viewpoint plummeted back to ground level. From there, I coated my soles in a thin layer of mana and strolled along the branches toward the kingdom.
At the branch's end, I dropped to the soil, feeling its texture underfoot.
The market sprawled outside the fortress walls—open to outsiders, apparently, since a few elves glanced my way and kept walking.
Blending in fine.
I followed the sounds and scents. Stalls lined the street, wooden shelves piled high with vibrant unknown fruits, root veggies yanked straight from the earth, dried goods, pickled jars, processed treats—everything crammed in tight.
All so alien in look and smell, yet it had me buzzing with excitement.
What's that purple berry? Those skinny long ones spices? Red powder?
I poked around each stall, sniffing deeply, eyeing everything, even prodding with a finger.
Bet roasting these would be killer.
Then my feet stopped dead.
Skewers sizzled over a small brazier, oil dripping and popping with a mouthwatering hiss. Sweet, nutty, with a spicy kick that made my nose tingle.
I planted myself there, staring.
Smelled insanely good, but no cash—just window-shopping it was.
The elf merchant paused, eyed me, chuckled, and beckoned.
"Little miss, c'mere. Have one on me."
I blinked, stepped closer. He handed over a skewer.
"Whose kid are you? Pretty thing like you wandering alone's dangerous."
"Me? Boy, actually."
His hand froze. He scanned me top to bottom, head tilted.
"......For real?"
No answer—just chomped a bite.
"......"
Sweet and nutty. Crispy-charred outside, juicy inside; chewing unleashed spices mingling with meat juices, flooding my tongue. Rich, lingering sweetness.
Damn, this slaps.
The merchant grinned at my face. Skewer in hand, I wandered on.
Elves here are sweet.
Mood lifted. Next stall: flatbread slathered in green paste, grassy-nutty aroma wafting.
Staring, the nearby granny merchant slyly beckoned.
"Try this too, sweetie. Aren't you just precious."
She sliced a piece and offered it.
Chomp.
Oho.
Green paste blended with the bread's mildness into smooth, deep nuttiness. Totally opposite the skewer's punch—subtle, layered.
Granny nodded, pleased.
It kept happening. Lingering at a fruit stall? Sneaky handout. Eyeing chewy rice-cake things? Slice offered.
I munched casually as I strolled, ignoring the merchants' whispers behind me.
"Where's that kid from?"
"Dunno. But that munching? Adorable."
"Look at that hair. So shiny and pretty."
"Heard they said 'boy' at the skewer stall?"
"Pfft, no way. That face?"
Another skewer bite. Flatbread tucked into my subspace—hands full.
Abysal stir-fry with this green paste...?
Sylvaster's feet halted at the market's edge.
Day off. He'd come out to haggle veggies when something in the crowd snagged his eye.
Jet-black hair, black robe, petite frame—boy clutching a skewer, strolling slow.
He almost passed it off. Visitors weren't rare.
But his feet wouldn't budge.
......This vibe.
Eyes narrowed. Striking looks: rare ebony locks, golden eyes, features outshining most elves.
But that wasn't it. Decades as a scout screamed it: same presence as the divine beast atop the World Tree.
Logic rebelled. A divine beast in human guise, market-strolling? Absurd.
Instinct blared warnings like mad.
......No mistake.
Sylvaster dropped his basket and bolted full-tilt.
Bam! Breathless on his day off, bursting in—Kaiel set down his papers.
"What? Day off, and you're not resting."
"The market...... His Divinity is there. In human form. Jet-black hair, golden eyes...... No hard proof. But certain."
Kaiel was already on his feet before the words ended.
"That's enough."
Firm cut-off; he strode for the door, adding, "Report to His Majesty first."
Kaelion was reviewing missives in the garden. He started to greet Kaiel warmly, then saw the rigid face and fell silent.
The report was brief.
Kaelion paused.
"......In the market."
"Yes. We can still catch them."
Kaelion rose slowly.
"Summon the guard. Kaiel, with me."
I was peering at a vibrant red fruit I'd never seen at the fruit stall, eyeing the next one.
Pickled? Or just that color naturally?
One step forward—and the area went quiet.
Merchants froze mid-motion, passersby slowed, all staring one way.
I turned. Elves parted along the street; a group in silver armor approached from the fortress.
The leader jumped out first. Familiar face: the elf who'd climbed to my nest with heaps of meat.
Don't know the name. But that nest-climber elf.
Beside him, a newcomer: white robes with gold trim, deep green eyes. Steady gait parting the crowd effortlessly.
Even next to Kaiel, eyes gravitated to him first.
They halted before me; Kaiel bowed deeply.
"An honor to meet you."
The man beside him bowed slow and formal; the guards behind synced up, blanketing the market in silence.
I glanced at my fruit, then up at Kaiel.
"......Oh, you again."
Kaiel straightened, speaking.
"We assume Your presence this far afield has purpose...... Anything amiss? Name it, and we provide."
"Nah, just sightseeing."
Brief silence.
Then the man beside him spoke softly.
"......First meeting. I am Kaelion Aetheris, king of this realm."
I turned to him.
"Uh...... hi?"
Kaelion hesitated, then pressed on.
"Would you grace our palace? We have delights beyond the market. Our head chef prepares......"
Palace food, huh.
"Sure, let's go."
Kaelion's eyes widened faintly, then he bowed again.
"......Our deepest gratitude."
Skewer still half-gone, I took another bite and fell in step beside them.
Through the gate into the city—air shifted from market bustle. Neat streets, tidy elf attire everywhere. Faint floral-woody scent drifted.
Merchants whispered behind.
"That's...... the divine beast?"
"So young......"
"The kid from the skewer stall."
Heading to the palace, I mentally sorted the market haul: skewer's sweet linger, green paste's depth, mystery fruit's tang.
Getting curious about palace eats now.
The elven palace was in uproar—first divine visit since founding. Elders' calls for a commemorative rite already echoed halls.
The guest of honor? Busy sizing up the kitchen scale and plotting dinner.