The morning breeze carried the scent of pine, fresh dew, and a hint of burned pudding from last night. Twelve young elves stood at the edge of the Elf Forest, each with a magic bag slung across their shoulder and the glimmer of anticipation in their eyes.
"Okay, roll call!" Kyle shouted, standing on a rock like a self-appointed captain. "Kyle, present and heroically handsome. Fahleena, still sparkly?"
"As the dawn itself," Fahleena announced, flipping her twin-tails dramatically. Her magic bag shimmered with chuunibyou-level inscriptions like "Key to Destiny Gate Mk. II."
"Jessica?"
"Here," she replied, adjusting her katana quietly. Her eyes scanned the road ahead with the calm of someone ready to cut it in half.
"Yuuna?"
Yuuna raised a hand without looking up from her notebook. "Alive. Tracking temperature and humidity changes."
"That counts," Kyle said. "Let's move out!"
Their destination: Dwargo, the mountain home of the dwarves. It was a logical first stop, friendly territory, and more importantly, shops.
They briefly considered using the hoverboard Yuuna and Kyle had developed, codename: Skyblade Zephyr Mk. I, but the memory of its last test flight was still too fresh. Kyle had taken off like a meteor, crashed through three fences, a berry patch, and ended up in a lake, upside down and clinging to a fish. The resulting explosion was both spectacular and oddly musical. Even the cow had applauded.
"We walk," Yuuna had declared flatly, marking the decision in her notebook under 'Travel Method: Non-explosive.'
The journey took two days by foot, made considerably easier thanks to Magic Bag IX, which stored everything from tents to the Magic Stove. Fuhiken used it to make breakfast: toasted flatbread, root vegetable stew, and scrambled egg, all cooked without any explosions.
"Still can't believe the stove didn't try to fly this time," Yetsan muttered, eyeing it with the suspicion of someone who had once been personally betrayed by airborne cookware. "Last time it looked at me funny, it launched itself like a flaming phoenix of culinary rebellion. I still have egg trauma."
"That wasn't trauma," Kyle said. "That was 'The Great Breakfast Ascension.'"
"It left a skillet embedded in the ceiling for three days," Yetsan replied.
"A glorious chandelier," Kyle corrected, nodding solemnly.
"Don't jinx it," Yuuna warned.
---
At Dwargo's outer gates, the dwarf guards eyed them curiously, like seasoned stone statues waking to appraise a storm dressed in cloaks and chuunibyou. Their brows furrowed beneath thick iron helms as the twelve elf children approached, a spectacle of gleaming weapons, over-prepared magic bags, and theatrical poses that made the guards question if they'd accidentally wandered into a traveling troupe of eccentric bards.
The wind swept Fahleena's twin-tails like ribbons of prophecy. Kyle gave a thumbs-up to no one in particular. Sinryo was already pocketing a pebble.
And yet, despite all rational suspicion, the dwarves simply nodded and parted the gates. Perhaps they'd sensed fate was unfolding. Or perhaps they just didn't want to argue with twelve armed children, one of whom had already begun reciting what sounded suspiciously like an incantation to awaken a dragon forge god.
"Welcome, Elf Children," said a dwarf with a thick silver beard. "Your kind is always welcome in the stone heart of the mountain."
Fuhiken stepped forward. "Thank you. I'm the representative. If any of my siblings start glowing or screaming about fate, please ignore them."
After a brief conversation and some suspicious looks at Kyle, the guard finally led them through the stone archway into the heart of Dwargo. The corridors echoed with the clang of metal and the low murmur of dwarven conversation. Soon, they stood before the dwarven chief, a stocky figure with a braided gold beard and armor polished to a mirror shine.
Fuhiken and Gaby stepped forward, designated as the spokespersons for the group, mostly because they were the calmest and least likely to spontaneously shout about destiny or explode something.
"We are honored to visit your home," Fuhiken said with a polite bow.
"We'll do our best not to break anything," Gaby added tactfully.
Their caution was not unfounded. The memory of past explosions still lingered, Magic Stove I had nearly turned their workshop into a fireball factory, and Magic Bag III had attempted escape via spontaneous self-detonation. In the world of elf-child inventions, anything with a glow and a mana circuit was just as likely to achieve sentience as it was to ignite, hover, or explode. Dwarves were known for their pragmatism and low tolerance for dramatics, which meant this meeting had every chance of ending in mild embarrassment or full-scale evacuation.
Behind them, Fahleena was already twitching with excitement, her fingers theatrically dancing through the air like she was preparing to summon an ancient prophecy.
"Just let her get it out of her system," Kyle whispered.
"No, stop her," Sinryo hissed, eyes wide. "She's drawing in cosmic breath! We have seconds before she chants something about soul-seared steel or destiny resonance patterns! Abort! ABORT!"
Too late.
Absolutely. Too late.
"BEHOLD! THE SACRED FOUNDRY OF THE UNDERMOUNTAIN!" Fahleena declared, arms wide, her voice echoing through the stone halls like a divine decree. She struck a pose, one foot on an imaginary pedestal, twin-tails fluttering as if wind itself bowed before her dramatic flourish.
"Tremble, o anvils of ancient craft! For I, Fahleena the Starforged Dreamweaver of Radiant Epochs, have descended into this sacred crucible of creation! Let the fire of millennia rise to greet my destiny-bound steel!"
"Here lies the Heart of Molten Eternity, where blades are born from the magma veins of Terra's Wrath! Let the Eternal Blacksmith of Fate judge my soul!"
A dwarf nearby blinked slowly. "...It's just a forge."
Fahleena didn't miss a beat. She whipped out her keyblade, holding it high like a sacred artifact, shouting, "O blade of forgotten realms, let thy hallowed edge shimmer in witness to the forging of fate!" "Let my Destiny Circuit synchronize with the Anvil of Ascendance!"
"She means she wants to buy a weapon," Jessica translated, arms crossed.
"Also, she might be casting a speech buff," Kyle added.
"More like a cringe aura," Sinryo muttered.
The dwarves chuckled, thoroughly amused despite themselves.
"She means the smithy," Fuhiken clarified quickly, stepping slightly in front of Fahleena like a living firewall against further dramatics.
"And by 'eternal blacksmith of fate,' she definitely means your head craftsman," Gaby added smoothly, bowing just enough to be polite but not enough to encourage more theatrics. "We deeply admire your... pragmatic anvil artistry."
The dwarves chuckled. Inside, Dwargo bustled with mining carts, smiths clanging metal, and carts of wild cow milk.
Sinryo took a cautious sip of the wild cow milk, his face scrunching like he'd bitten into a lightning-charged lemon. "Definitely not the same as Holy Cow milk," he muttered, wiping his mouth. "Less divine. More like... if a thunder spell and a cheese wheel had an awkward baby."
"A what?" Kyle asked.
"An awkward baby," Sinryo insisted. "With texture issues."
"So, still better than Orchid's cooking?" Adiw asked without looking up.
Sinryo took another sip. "Only slightly."
Kyle gagged. "Tastes like angry cheese."
Yuuna took a sip. "Acceptable."
Yetsan took a sip and nodded thoughtfully, swirling the wild cow milk like a connoisseur assessing a fine potion. "Hm. It's… milk," he concluded. "Actual milk. Refreshing. Stable. Not glowing. Doesn't bite back. Definitely healthier than anything Orchid's cooked."
Orchid, three steps behind him, was quietly scribbling 'Chocolate Milk Mana Infusion' into her notebook.
"No," Yuuna said without looking.
The party visited weapon shops. Fuhiken upgraded to a reinforced iron short sword and matching iron shield. Yetsan found an iron lance with wind-element engraving. Adiw chose a heavy iron broadsword twice the size of his torso. Orchid picked an iron long sword etched with holy symbols.
"This one looks divine," she said.
"Don't bless it before we test it," Yuuna replied.
Gaby picked out a finely crafted iron longbow, the limbs inscribed with elegant filigree patterns meant to steady aim and reduce vibration. Alongside it, she selected iron-tipped arrows etched for accuracy. Jessica found a balanced iron katana with a red-tinted edge that shimmered subtly under the forge's firelight. Kyle, meanwhile, held up an iron rifle embedded with a gleaming blue mana core, cradling it like a precious artifact.
"She's beautiful," he whispered.
"It's a gun," Sinryo deadpanned.
Kyle traced the sleek iron barrel of his new rifle with reverence, eyes gleaming. "She needs a name," he declared. "Something fierce. Something majestic. Maybe... Boom Whisperer?"
Yuuna, unfazed, flipped a page in her notebook. "Antares. A red supergiant star in the constellation Scorpius. It suits your flair for drama."
Kyle lit up. "Perfect. Behold, Antares, rifle of radiant doom and celestial precision!"
Sinryo snorted. "You named a weapon after a dying star. Fitting."
Meanwhile, the girls declared the forge district boring, until they discovered a hidden underground garden.
The space was lit by bioluminescent flowers, each glowing in different hues: soft blues, radiant pinks, deep violets. The air shimmered with a faint floral perfume, like the lingering sigh of a dream. The garden stretched wide, with stone pathways winding through the lights like veins of color in the dark, a starlit map carved into the underworld. Every flower pulsed with gentle magic, as if they were quietly humming forgotten lullabies to the soil.
For a long moment, the girls said nothing.
Sakura stepped into the glow, her eyes wide, lips parted in wonder. "It's like walking inside a star," she whispered again, softer this time, as if afraid to wake the flowers.
Orchid stood still, for once without a clumsy smile or nervous laugh. "This... this is better than chocolate," she said, voice trembling with something close to reverence.
Fahleena didn't strike a pose or speak of destiny. She simply reached out, fingertips brushing a glowing petal as if to confirm it was real. Her eyes glistened, reflecting violet light like polished gems.
Even Yuuna, ever composed, lingered in silence before kneeling by a blossom. She didn't speak for a long time.
Then she said, almost to herself, "Possibly mana-reactive. I want ten."
"Twelve," Fahleena corrected softly. "For balance."
Their laughter came quietly, not as a burst of amusement, but as a ripple of shared peace, a sound that settled into the garden like an extra bloom.
Sakura took a few more steps, turning slowly, arms just slightly out as if hoping to catch starlight on her sleeves. "It really does feel magical."
Orchid nodded, smiling faintly. "It's warm. Not like fire. Like a memory."
Yuuna, still crouched beside a petal, ran a finger along its edge. She closed her notebook. For once, she didn't feel the need to write anything down.
Fahleena reached for a blossom and gently cupped it in her hands. "I want to remember this place forever. Even when we're far away."
They stayed the night in a dwarven guesthouse, feasting on roasted mushroom and wild cow cheese fondue.
Later, as everyone settled in bedrolls and stone bunks, Yuuna scribbled notes by lantern light:
First destination successful.
Stove intact.
Magic Bag functions stable.
No one exploded.
Party morale: elevated.
She paused, then added:
This world is unpredictable.
---