"Anyone with a high fever will feel groggy." Lynch took out a few strawberries: "You were seriously ill, and as for why you got sick, that’s sothing I’m trying to figure out. But since you’re already recovering, don’t think too much about it."
"Hmm!" Soka looked at the strawberries and nodded vigorously.
Lynch used the Powerful Wand to gently stir the river, making the small boat glide like a leaf on the water’s surface. The Erutalon River beca narrower and narrower, branching into countless tributaries, spreading like a spider’s web across the land of Moon. Dense trees grew along the riverbanks, with enormous canopies extending above the river, covering over Lynch and the others. The dappled sunlight stread through the leaves, illuminating the gently rippling water with a silver glow.
Soka felt they were not sailing on the river but drifting gently through the forest.
They turned a corner on the river, only to find their way completely blocked by gigantic trees. Delicate branches hanging from above stretched into the water like tendrils, arranged so closely together that they resembled exquisite curtains. The small boat stopped before this natural barrier, unable to advance further.
"Shall we go from the shore?" Zilvra suggested, "Or perhaps over the branches?"
"No," Lynch smiled and said, "These trees will make way for us."
As he spoke, the Mage stood up, placed his hand on the hanging branches beside him, and softly murmured in the Elf Language: "A thousand years of ti, everlasting friendship, kindly visitors or urgent ssages."
The trees understood this passage phrase, neatly retracting their limbs. The curtain of trees split in two, revealing a winding passageway.
The river beneath began to flow on its own, requiring no paddling from the three, as Erutalon led the incoming guests into the land where elves had grown for ages.
The barrier behind them slowly closed, while the sight ahead left Soka awestruck. The gentle riverbanks were vivid green adows, with bright flowers adorning the damp foliage. A gentle breeze stirred, making the colorful flora nod in welco to the visiting guests. A few ancient trees stood like guardians caring for their young floral companions, silently standing at the riverbanks, leaning down to chat with the younger ones in rustling whispers.
Several giant swans appeared on the river, leisurely sailing towards the little boat. The shimring water splashed into white spray around their gracefully curved chests. Their beaks shimred with gold, and their eyes were like smooth coals set in yellow gemstones, dark and mysterious. Their enormous white wings spread wide. They craned their necks and called out loudly to Angel; perhaps they thought little-winged Soka was among their beautiful kin.
If one calms their mind and dismisses all clutter from their heart, they can hear the lodious singing from afar. Whenever you unwind, this music echoes in your ears, yet when you focus intently to discern the origin of the song or its elegant lyrics, this heavenly sound becos ever more elusive, until it vanishes amidst the distant verdant mountains.
Soka turned over and happily leaned against the boat’s side, reaching her little hand into the river. She felt the richly textured and smooth water’s surface. The cool sensation from her fingertips washed away her fatigue, taking with it all the weariness from the journey.
Lynch pointed to the distant mountains, shrouded in mist, where a hanging rainbow spanned between peaks. A flock of birds soared among the mountains, resembling a school of fish swimming through a sea of clouds.
"There lies Moon’s Isley Heather, which ans the blessing of the moonlight, also the resting place of the silent moon." Lynch told Zilvra and Soka: "However, outsiders always call it Heather City, the eternally blessed place."
"Why?" Little Soka scooped up the water and drank it refreshingly: "So cool!"
"You can drink this water, but don’t jump in to swim. After entering the waters of Erutalon, the kind-hearted will feel unparalleled comfort, reluctant to leave; while the wicked will feel as if they’ve fallen into magma, reduced to ashes." Lynch explained, "Even during the ancient wars, this place remained untouched. The mad burning fires of war couldn’t ignite these ancient trees, and Heather beca the only sanctuary at that ti."
Just as they were speaking, two beautiful small boats appeared in front of them. With long, narrow white hulls, their prows were adorned with floral carvings. Long oars gently cut through the water, each boat holding two elves: one rowing and the other standing at the prow. For humans, describing the differences in the appearance of each elf is difficult; they all possess elegance and striking looks, with resilience and pride in their deanor. Flowing golden hair cascades over their shoulders, handso features unafraid, always exuding a sense of joy. At this mont, human language seems inadequate; only the elf language, filled with joy and praise, can accurately express the innermost feelings.
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