“Excuse me, young man?”

  They were barely five minutes out of the city when a grey-coated Centaur called out, waving Ivory and Nozumu down with her free arm. In her other, she had a wooden umbrella—a wide, T-shaped slab.

  It looked really fucking heavy. The rain was coming down even harder, and the aged Centaur, while dry, looked to be struggling. The boys walked, not ran, over to her.

  “Can we help with something?”

  Ivory had to really raise his voice to be heard over the rain, especially the clattering it made on her ‘umbrella’.

  “Oh, thank you dears. I’ve dropped my basket, would you retrieve it for me? It is just beside me.”

  Like a little quest, which apparently was a new thing. The basket was by the Centauress’ hind legs; it was of a simple wicker design, the size of an esky, and full of large mushrooms.

  As far as requests went, this one was straightforward. Misoe heard his thoughts and took off from Ivory’s shoulder, under the Centauress and emerged by her face with her head under the basket’s handle.

  “Why, aren’t you a kind little helper? Thank you dearly; the cold has its way with my mature bones. These mushrooms are so much bigger than normal and heavier! I got a bit too excited… Thank you.”

  “She’s a good girl. It’s our pleasure, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Mincha. My home is a quick trot away; you are more than welcome to join me and wait out the storm.”

  Nozumu looked up through the [Wind Umbrella] as Ivory replied.

  “Thank you, but we are actually heading to the Wiswealds for a class, but we can walk you home, though.”

  Mincha’s face swelled with emotion—they reached out to steady her as they saw her umbrella start to tilt.

  “So sorry, young ones. See, I lived most of my life in the Wiswealds… would you send them my love?”

  The boys look at each other—them?

  “Of course! Is there, uh, anyone in particular?”

  She closed her eyes, smiling wistfully.

  “Anyone. Everyone. The young ones—please, tell them to visit. They are capable of such strong love, but… you know how they are.”

  “We will absolutely let them all know, Mincha.”

  Her smile began to quiver. They had arrived at her home, a tall cottage with a few plots of leafy plants; it looked like a fairy tale house. She turned back, arms now free, and waved.

  “Okay, so she was a loony, right? Are we going to tell animals to visit her?”

  “She might have thought you could convince them.”

  “Well, maybe. But she was also picking up huge mushrooms growing in cracks in the pavement. That’s just feral.”

  “I told you, rain is an event. For a village, it is something for them to look forward to. A basic Skill can identify if a mushroom is poisonous, so it is free food.”

  A hmph was his reply. You could take the man out of the city, but not the city out of the man, after all. Foraging for mushrooms of all things was… precarious.

  Well, it felt nice to do a good thing for someone, regardless.

  —-----------

  After a quick detour to change their clothes—it would take a better Skill to prevent splashback walking—they made their way to the main building to find someone to take them to the Wiswealds. Their next approximation was that it was a kind of either zoo, or cultivated animal sanctuary; they had tried to look for some ways of actually getting in on their way, including having Misoe fly up, but it was just a forest of trees.

  The interior of the foyer was like something out of a billionaire’s cabin retreat. The walls were beautifully fashioned marbled wood that looked like you could eat off of. A lit, stone fireplace loomed in the corner, providing some natural heating. There was only one member of staff, a Lizardperson, who looked up as the wooden door clunked shut.

  “Good morning.”

  Ivory was momentarily taken aback by the lack of… well, the classic Lizardfolk volumed-whimsy in his voice.

  “Hi, we are looking for how to get into the Wiswealds…?”

  “Walk half a mile through the vineyard, and the entrance is on your left. There will be an arched canopy of paradise blossoms; walk through.”

  “Amazing, thank you. Another thing, where would I find someone named Herian? He, uh, did us a big favour the other day.”

  The Lizardman’s working-man face softened a bit.

  “A favour—? Tree rot, I know you! You’re the ones who teleported into the vineyard!”

  He sidled out from behind the desk and took Ivory and Nozumu’s hands, shaking them. Tree rot, what an odd phrase, Ivory thought.

  “I’m Thamz. We’ve got a shortcut to the Wiswealds—follow me. How are you both? Enjoying the apartments? We’ve been so busy, it’s a shame that we haven’t had the chance to come see you both.”

  His pronunciation was curious; he started craving some Tim Tams. Thamz was albino-white, the colour of the village’s signature chalk, and wore a stylish black tunic, emblazoned with a circled tree. His head-spines were webbed, and ran from his forehead to where his neck met his back.

  “It’s fine, don’t worry,” Nozumu replied, “the Polytechnic has kept us busy.”

  “Yes, of course it has. Beastkeeping, right? ‘Animal Management’ sounds terrible, doesn’t it? It’s not for a while, but there’s plenty to do. Not many visit other than for work; it’s good that they get a chance.”

  Ivory couldn’t help it. He had to ask.

  “Who is ‘they’? Animals? We met a Centaur lady who told us to tell ‘them’ in the Wiswealds to visit her. Are they parrots?”

  That was the only long-lived animal he could think of, really. Thamz turned around with a very confused look.

  “What? No, the Wiswealds is our half-Elven village, in the style of Herian’s home.”

  Nozumu gasped and raised both of his arms up in a freeze-frame position; an imitation of Ivory.

  “A real half-Elven village?! They are—they’re legendary!”

  “Don’t get too excited. Our home is beautiful, but still growing.”

  Ivory shrugged; clearly, this was something significant. Thamz led them through a door behind reception. As he touched the chain-like door handle, it glowed briefly, then opened with a distinctive woody noise, like two logs lightly colliding.

  As they walked through the plain, narrow hallway, Nozumu turned around with a look of disbelief, mouthing something he didn’t pick up.

  He certainly did understand the significance of what he was about to walk into. It was rare for Nozumu to offer praise—no shade, of course—but rarer still for him to geek out. The insights of a Drathian [Student] were ones that one should pay attention to.

  “Herian was young, even for our standards, when he left the Loam Copse. Traditional villages are, shall we say, exclusionary. That I, a Lizardman, am escorting a Human and a Beastkin into one normal, here, is most something indeed. With that being said, most don’t go through the village leader’s home to get there.”

  As he said that, Ivory realised that they were no longer in a corridor, but an open pavilion. Well, it wasn’t open, but the walls were made of thick, living vines, with a green canopy overhead that let no light in. It reminded Ivory of a tropical villa one would holiday in.

  It had to be an illusion of some kind, that tiny corridor. Perhaps some measure of security to ensure no cheeky Lizardperson [Picker] doesn’t break in.

  Thamz’ living room was the least interesting thing at the moment, though. As they stepped over some wooden blocks—toys, figurines?—they entered the Wiswealds.

  Immediately, Ivory was brought back to the rainforest in Dejima, Jin-Sukudoma. Gone were the tropical palm trees that littered Levaintsil’s soil, here were the trees of a great forest.

  There were no signs of immediate habitation, for all that this was a nouveau half-Elven village.

  Few without Elven heritage could truly say what a half-Elven village, the timeless sanctuaries where half-Elves watched time pass by, looked like. Ivory and Nozumu certainly couldn’t, nor could Thamz. So long-lived were those living in the Loam Copse that the Lizardman was denied entry for ‘crimes against their kind’. Whatever that could have meant.

  So, the Wiswealds. From the moment you stepped out of Thamz’ home, you were face to face with a thick, barky tree trunk. Not entirely unsurprising, except for its massive size; Ivory could scarcely make out its curvature, so wide it was. Looking up was similarly futile; there was a massive amount of space, evidently only due to the manicured branches as you went up, between the ground at the open canopy that lit the Wiswealds. There was a basic path of dirty chalk leading around the tree.

  The pitter-patter of rain in the distance—up—was quite calming; the aroma of petrichor, divine. A good time, he thought, followed by a sudden realisation.

  “How didn’t we notice this huge ass tree…?”

  Ivory’s murmur to himself elicited a nod from his two companions, and a response from Thamz.

  “That would be the illusion spells. The Wiswealds’ existence isn’t a secret, but nor is it openly advertised. In Baleros, warfare is as common as subterfuge, though Levaintsil is not involved in any conflict at the moment—it’s important to know when to show off, and when to keep things close. Do you understand my meaning? Anyone with a Tier 3 searching spell can see through the illusion, and our trees will fill the sky.”

  Thamz’ words were interesting to Ivory. Yes, the premise was cool, but his manner of speaking spoke to him being a part of their culture.

  “My children are going to meet us here, and they will lead you through to where your class is held. The half-Elves seldom get visitors; you’ll be treated well. No doubt they’ll steal you away from Xin and Ellana the moment they see you.”

  Ivory couldn’t help but think of those videos about North Korea; the people on those guided tours that have never seen a foreigner before. He couldn’t believe why more people wouldn’t want to come here.

  “Here they come. Come back any time, though go through the normal entrance. Mind your step in the rain.”

  “Daaaaaaaaaaaaad!”

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  Two Lizardpeople, one male and one female, came bounding around the tree, the former into Thamz’ arms.

  “She pushed me!”

  “Did not! He tripped on a branch like a bug-eating idiot!”

  “Ellana.”

  “She pushed me!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “That’s enough.”

  Both children—both clearly adult Lizardfolk, took a step back and pouted.

  “Your guests are here. Say hello to Ivory, Nozumu, and Misoe.”

  “Hi Ivory, Nozumu, Misoe.”

  Their response was in tandem, like a class of children greeting their primary school teacher at the start of the day.

  They were twins—that was easy enough to tell. Their colouring was different to their father’s; they were a faint, deep blue, like the vast ocean on a sunny day. They had their father’s head-spines in the same configuration and the same colouration of their bodies. There was one final part of their physiology which made the three of them stare.

  They had long, pointy ears.

  “Now, take our guests to Sanctum Belua, you two.”

  “Ooookkkaaaaaaaayyy.”

  Nozumu and Ivory’s respective stupefaction broke, but for wildly unrelated reasons.

  “See you later, and enjoy what the Wiswealds have to offer, would you? Xin, Ellaria—tell your brothers and sisters that Auntie Mincha wants them to visit.”

  “Auntie Mincha!”

  “I wonder if she’s old?”

  The twins zoomed off as they wondered if their Centaur [Nanny] was still alive; a glint of sunlight bounced off one of their earrings—neither could tell which was which from behind—spurring them into following.

  Nozumu turned to Ivory, whipping his shins with his visible feather train.

  “Ears aside… They remind me of children. I acted like that as a chick!”

  “Balls to that—what’s up with the names?. There was that draco… something-or-other Drake magic school, but I thought that was just them being pompous. Why is Latin a thing!”

  Nozumu narrowed his eyes at the way Ivory veritably hissed that last part.

  “The language of magic is also from your world. A world without magic.”

  Sigh. Of course it was.

  “The language… of magic. Are you for fuckin’ real. And yes, but it’s a dead language, ‘cause no one actually speaks it other than people who learn it to read stuff.”

  “‘Stuff’?”

  “Ancient books, philosophy—”

  “Keep up, you two!”

  It was for the best that the two long-eared Lizardfolk siblings called out to them. Yes, 2,000 years is a long time, but to call that ancient? Truly laughable by this world’s standards—some half-Elves live that long.

  Nudged along by Misoe, they jogged up to Thamz’ children.

  ______________________

  The Wiswealds were as big as Levaintsil, if not larger, and expanding faster than the city was—according to Xin and Ellaria. The boys’ impression of the twins gave them a bit of pause, but it no doubt was told to them by their father.

  Something was up with that. It was all the way back in Calanfer that he had read about the half-Elven empires that terrorised the continent, and the interesting magic they wielded to dominate the rest of humanity.

  Half-Elves beget half-Elves, regardless of the other partner. You could not have just ‘a little bit’ of half-Elven lineage in your bloodline. If your great, great, great grandmother was a half-Elf and you were a Human, it means either they’re an inlaw, or someone in the family tree had some explaining to do.

  Yet these two Lizardfolk, who had their father’s head-spines, had the ears of a half-Elf. Nozumu was even more stumped—it literally was not possible. Neither wanted to ask.

  But they were still Lizardfolk, and they loved to talk.

  “Almost there! Daddy’s with the [Beast Master], he’s sooooo dreamy…”

  “Eeeew, Ellaria! He touches poop and pee and dead stuff!”

  “Shut up! Dad said not to talk like that with them here! See? Told you. Aww…”

  Neither said any more; Xin briefly flashed a triumphant grin at them and continued onward through the path. A treacherous path, that gave no indication that the Wiswealds were inhabited or made in any way inhabitable. It was just a dense forest so far, with a suggestion of a path, created organically no doubt by Thamz and his children going between home and the Wiswealds.

  Actually, what was that?

  “Is Thamz meeting us there? I thought he had to run the, uh, the place…?”

  It occurred to Ivory that he didn’t actually know what the hell that place was, really.

  “Nup. Daddy just told her off, though. His Skill—so Archmage, not!”

  Nozumu chirped in surprise, startling Ivory and Misoe. His talon was balled up in his other palm.

  “Can you ask your dad to introduce us?”

  Both twins looked back, incredulous.

  “Um, yeah? That’s what daddy asked us to do as well.”

  “That is great. Did you know that he is letting us stay in his villas?”

  “Yeah!”

  Nozumu was trying to eke out the answer to his question politely. Ivory supposed that he was just making pleasant conversation.

  “That is awesome, isn’t it? Did you know that he found us?”

  “Uh huh.”

  Xin chimed in. Ellaria nodded sagely. Ivory narrowed his eyes. Nozumu clacked both his talons. Misoe was just glad to be there.

  “We are really grateful for that. Say, your neck-spines match… do you get your ears from your dad?”

  “Yes!... But dad said not to say anything, ‘cause Humans are weird. Not you, though!”

  “Thanks, I guess?”

  Ivory looked at Nozumu, who to his surprise was looking at him. He just shrugged, and drew circles around his ear. Weirdos, he mouthed.

  Nozumu just shook his head and came closer, beckoning him in, and whispered:

  “Ivory, Thamz is their daddy, and Herian is their dad.”

  Instantly, Ivory’s face contorted as if he had eaten a whole lemon.

  “Jesus Christ, do they think I’m homophobic?! I’m from Sydney! Gay bloody capital of the world!”

  “Well, they think you’re Terandrian, and they can be, ah, intolerant. Not as bad as Drakes.”

  Funny as it would have been to explain to these… sheltered… Lizardfolk his true origins, the layers upon layers of Earthly differences would have left any of this world’s natives with a headache.

  As was always the case, being, and action, normal was the solution. Hoping to put the twins’ minds at ease, Ivory just ignored it and opted for a safe question to ease the tension that he imagined was in the air. He was positively sick of introductions, but he persevered.

  It turned out, the twins were both quite low-levelled—both under level ten, despite being 24 years old. Xin had two classes: [Climber] and [Swimmer], level 7 and 4 respectively. His sister Ellaria had one class, [Woodland Dweller], level 8.

  It did feel a bit like they were sharing state secrets. They heard all about the meeting between Herian and the [Beast Master] that would conduct the lesson for the Polytechnic. It was a whirlwind of points spoken with little regard to consistency: grape harvest was normal, [Foragers] and [Pickers] finding new herbs outside the village, wild animals being both big, small, happy and sad, and the Weald Lake’s fish were spawning early. A stream of consciousness befitting an excited Lizardman.

  It definitely was interesting, however. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Lizardfolk matured as they aged, as it was generally agreed that they chilled out after achieving an evolution into one of many superior forms. Xin and Ellaria matured at the same rate as the half-Elves that they lived with, which wasn’t really a problem until the Lizardfolk died when their counterpart could live another few thousand years.

  This, both Nozumu and Ivory knew. The complication was the levelling—long-lived races levelled considerably slower than their regular counterparts. It was inherently unfair to these poor Lizardtwins.

  But nothing was ever so simple. They were so candid and loose-lipped that they struck down the boys’ thoughts, and more.

  The twins were adopted. Their birth parents, travelling [Sailors] aboard a merchant’s ship, convinced the [Captain] to dock in the nearest town—Levaintstil—to birth the baby safely. Babies, as it turned out.

  With pride, Xin and Ellaria spoke their Skill that changed everything:

  [Gift of Parentage: Half-Elven Heritage].

  From Thamz, his head-spines; Herian, the lifespan of a half-Elf. Oh, and the ears.

  Ivory, Nozumu and Misoe’s jaws hit the ground with cataclysmic force. Nothing in Nozumu’s studies of cultivation theory—‘min-maxing regiment’ as Ivory called it—nor his Skills that pulled from the Drathian cultural consciousness made reference to this. The only hint they had was that one of them, presumably Herian, was a [Timeless Lover]. Xin tail-whipped Ellaria when she’d said it—like a child, Xin wanted to hoard the information to feel special.

  —---------------------------

  It was an interesting start to the morning. Xin and Ellaria upheld their end of the agreement and escorted them through the visitor-unfriendly entrance to the Wiswealds, leaving them at the edge of the ‘village’. They frollicked onwards, their attention already locked in on doing something else.

  The village was quite intimate. They stood at the end of a basketball court sized clearing populated with three shiny, wooden tables between them and the entrance to the next ‘area’, which looked like a tree standing with its legs spread.

  It was intimate because to their left was a home built into a humongous tree, no doubt the same that marvelled Ivory upon their entry into the Wiswealds. Daylight was somehow making its way through the canopy, but Ivory could make out some magic similar to what he saw on Dejima, that enhanced the natural light. Were it to have been on the front of a Grimm’s fairy tale book, you’d have not batted an eye.

  “Tri, more lost Polytechnics.”

  A deep, bored voice called from the house tree—treehouse?—followed by a groan overhead.

  They looked around for signs of half-Elves, but of course there was nothing. Until there was.

  “After the [Beast Master]? Back the way you came, hug the left, and follow the smell of seawater.”

  It was a testament to their day that the sight of a female half-Elf hanging down overhead, her legs grappling firmly on to the thick branch overhead, didn’t phase them.

  “Thank you! What are we looking for, specifically?”

  “The inlet, not Sanctum Belua. Don’t ask me why. I’ll be speaking to the [Guildmistress] about providing better directions. You’re the twelfth student to wander in. Return if you need a [Leatherworker]—good day.”

  … And she swung herself back up into the trees. Shrugs were had, and they made their way through the tree’s legs.

  —--------------------

  The geography of the Wiswealds was curious. After having left the [Leatherworkers]’ grove, there were a few branching paths, all lined with trees. It didn’t scream ‘harmonious, timedrunk Elven dreamscape’; it was giving labyrinth. It wasn’t as inviting as Thamz had made it out to be.

  Nevertheless, they hugged the left path, ignoring the other possible paths, until they began to smell the salty seawater. It didn’t take long to find the exit.

  The blinding white of the Channel was a welcome change, compared to nature’s long corridor.

  The Wiswealds’ Whitewash Inlet was, as the name suggested, a branching stream from the channel, which had formed into a huge, perfectly spherical body of water, with native Balerosian trees and foliage on its shores.

  The real kicker, they had realised, was that they were quite early—yet there was a large group of [Beast Tamers], adventurers and general-interest [Students] on the western shoreline.

  “Why d’you reckon they changed the location?

  Ivory’s question was met with a blank look from Nozumu.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. They are probably looking at the marine life of the Wiswealds. I would imagine that whatever lives in the channel would sometimes come in here, making it a safe place to check them out.”

  “Good point, actually. They surely have a way for us to actually see in the water. D’you wanna go to the rest of them? We have—”

  Ivory got out his phone and checked the time.

  “—an hour and a half ‘til it starts.”

  “That is a load of time. We should look around.”

  It would take five minutes, easily, to reach the opposite side of the inlet where the other students had congregated. Even with Nozumu’s superior eyesight, he could barely make out the figures, save for their skin colour. It would have been fine, but he didn’t know what half-Elves lizard-Elves actually looked like—specifically, what the colour of their skin could look like.

  Then, he realised it really wasn’t that serious.

  “Let’s walk over and find a half-Elf to show us around.”

  Ivory knew better than to protest… even if Nozumu was about to act like the worst tourist ever. Sometimes you just needed that person to get things done.