We arrived at the park and I noticed that there were not a lot of people around. The news of the goblin horde, which was announced at 3:00 pm, had kept people in their homes. Of course, the undead invasion of the park and the giant river eel also didn’t help matters, but at least there was not the citywide panic that was feared when the town criers were sent out to share the news. There was, however, a very strong presence of soldiers patrolling the streets by the City Watch, marines, and even groups of half a dozen mounted and armored knights.

  While there were not many others around, there was, in fact, a particular group that was quite unhappy with me. Biff and the four Watch guardsmen were near my mother, and when they saw me, they moved in my direction.

  “I appear to have slipped my babysitters and am about to be chastised,” I said to the ambassador.

  “As you should be. Take it in elven stride, lad.” The ambassador commented.

  Biff gave me a particularly scathing look, but Philip was the one to speak. “Patron, you do realize that if something were to happen to you on my watch, I could get demoted, right?”

  “I apologize for my oversight and insensitivity to your professional ambitions, Phillip. It will not happen again.”

  Biff replied. “No, it won’t.”

  Phillip added, “That’s all I ask. I am too old to start off as a private again.”

  The ambassador was stoic, but he did wink at me as we approached the tree and my mother.

  She gave me a big hug. “So, what’s all this about?” She asked.

  “How are you here?” I asked.

  “It is rude to answer a question with a question. Mine takes priority.” She replied

  I explained to her what I planned. She looked to the ambassador and bowed to him deeply. “This is a beautiful gift.”

  “I wish we could offer more, but we depart tomorrow.” He said to her.

  She sighed. “I understand. Your presence will be deeply missed.”

  He bowed to her but did not reply. He then turned to me. “How would you like to proceed?”

  “With respect, ambassador, your knowledge and wisdom are well known and respected. I would appreciate your advice and guidance. I would not wish to do harm.”

  “I accept your offer.” He motioned to the other elves who already knew what to do. “We will all sit around this tree at roughly equidistant spacing once we take care of a little housekeeping.” He turned to one of the elves and said, “Please cover the exposed roots at the pond’s edge with seven feet of additional earth. Use others to accomplish this rapidly but gently.”

  As the ambassador was explaining to me how we would work together to sing to the tree and its cohabitant, several of the other elves, elementalists by their skill, built up the earth around the tree so that we could all safely walk around it and sit as directed. The pond with its moving currents from the river had eroded the ground around the great, dryad tree over the past years. Their work would stabilize it once more.

  The ambassador continued to explain how we would proceed. “Once we are seated, each will harmonize as a part of a single song which, with your permission, I shall lead. You will find yourself drawn into the song. Continue to sing and allow yourself to go with the flow. You will not get lost in the song, but it will feel as if it has somewhat departed your control. At roughly ten-minute intervals, there will be a tug upon your casting points. Allow them to flow out of you. Will you be able to share twenty or twenty-one points without magical restoration? Because that is what will be needed for a three-hour song.”

  “I am and I will follow your lead,” I replied.

  “After this, if you need to restore before attempting the wands at different trees around the park, you are free to do so.” He added.

  “I should be fine, but I have potions if that proves necessary,” I explained.

  “Impressive. You have deeper reserves than I would have expected. That is promising.”

  The elves had completed their work, and not only had they filled a large area with firm dirt that looked sturdy, but the grass that had grown around the tree had also been added to the new earth. It was impossible to tell that the tree had been teetering on the edge of the pond ten minutes previously.

  I noticed that a few couples walking through the park had stopped to watch the elves work their magic.

  “Shall we begin?” He asked.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Yes.” I agreed and took a steadying deep breath. Three hours of singing, even a magical elf song, would not be easy. I had never tried anything remotely that difficult. My half hour with my staff was the longest I had ever tried an elf song at one sitting.

  “I will sit here on the new ground with my back to the pond. Please sit where you sat for your mage staff. The rest of us will fill in the open spaces.” He directed.

  My spot was directly opposite where he sat and was hidden from the park by the large tree trunk. But I moved around the tree and settled down about a yard from the trunk and made myself comfortable.

  The other elves did the same, all assuming either a cross-legged position or something similar to what I had seen Simon do when he was meditating.

  I went with a martial arts meditative position to help keep the flow of blood running through my legs. Being still for three hours could lead to cramping or the worst case of sleepy leg you get when you fall asleep at the wrong angle, and it is all numb in the morning.

  We all sat and steadied our breathing. A couple of the elves took a long drink of water from a canteen, and I wish I had thought of that. But after five to seven minutes of steady breathing, I heard the start of a deep, soft humming sound that grew into a rhythmic, mesmerizing tune.

  The ambassador was a grandmaster, and I never asked him of what. But one thing was sure, his voice was unlike anything that I had ever heard. It belonged in an opera house or at least before a great audience in the capital.

  The first few minutes were a little jumbled as one by one we entered the song. I was the last of the seven to do so, either by his design or more likely, as the least experienced in singing as a group.

  We sang and we sang. I was nearly, but not quite, lost in the song. It was beautiful, and my eyes watered freely at times, my tears joining with the soil as my song encompassed the entire tree.

  I felt tugs of casting points, but I did not keep track of them.

  In what seemed both an age and a moment, the song wound to a close.

  It took me a little while to clear and focus my eyes. When I did, I looked at the tree and up, up into its branches. The tree was enormous. It had to be over two hundred feet tall, and its trunk was right up against my knees. And leaning out of the tree, and for how long I have no idea, was a face that was both familiar and unfamiliar. And then she smiled, and I knew. It was my lady dryad, but she was young again, full of vitality. Her eyes spoke of wisdom and age, but her skin and smile spoke of youth and energy.

  She saw that I recognized her and she stepped out, kissed me gently on the cheek, and said, “You are forever my brother and I am forever your sister.” And then she jumped back into the tree again.

  The AL whispered into my ear. Enchanter Gwydion earns an ability point for completing the Elven Choir quest. You have earned an ally in the Keelwell Dryad for restoration of her magic. You earn a racial bonus title Dryad Brother and improved favor with dryads and their magical kin. Ability points may be claimed immediately. Additions and notes have been added to your Book of Quests that remain unread.

  I thought my answer to the AL. Please place the ability point into Magic.

  I heard some gasps of surprise and noticed that a crowd had formed around us. In fact, it was not just a crowd, but hundreds of people.

  The ambassador walked around to me and offered a waterskin for me to drink. I took a few sips but wanted more. I began to hand it back, and he said, “Drink your fill, please.”

  And so I slowly drained it dry, taking small sips.

  “Do not try to stand yet. But stretch out your legs slowly and get your balance. You will be dizzy for a few more minutes and will most likely fall if you try to stand now.” He said as he knelt beside me.

  He was right. As I stretched, I felt nauseous, then dizzy, and then warm. But after a few minutes, I had recovered. My stamina had been shot, and I had probably been running on fumes for a long time. Even though I was seated, the song took something out of me.

  “What do you think of your working?” He asked.

  “This was your song, I merely joined,” I said.

  “Not true, you fueled this work yourself. We sang and initiated the Elfsong, but at each interval, the strength for this came from you and you alone. The working is true and it is yours.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “As the others choose their trees, I suggest the ash behind you would be a good choice for wands, and it only requires you to turn around.”

  I looked at the tree and bowed my head. “I concur and appreciate its proximity.”

  “Then I will leave you to it, and we will join again in an hour.”

  And for the next three segments of twenty minutes, I sang a living wand of ash off the tree and strengthened its donation. The tree before me provided three solid fourteen-inch wands, and my magic strengthened it even more. It may have only grown a foot taller, but there were new spring buds sprouting all across its limbs.

  When I was done and came back to myself, I found my mother and the ambassador seated behind me.

  “He is a natural.” I heard the grandmaster say.

  “He believes, and that belief gives him strength.” She said.

  “And his strength gives him courage and purpose.” He completed her phrase as if it were a known elf saying.

  They saw me turn and smiled at me. I was very tired.

  Before them rested a pile of wands. Counting my own, there were twenty-one of them.

  My mother began to place them all in a green cloth bag she pulled from within her cloak somewhere. When she was done, she stood and walked them over to me.

  They both helped me to stand.

  “I think you should take the long way round.” The ambassador said. “We will walk at your side.”

  Mom smiled but didn’t clarify or explain.

  “Okay,” I said. “But let’s walk slowly to begin with. This was a lot.”

  The ambassador laughed. “Yes, more than you know, I think.”

  And as we passed around the dryad’s tree, I could see more of the park, and there had to be over a thousand people seated on the grass, just watching, laughing, and children were playing. A sense of hope permeated the air.

  As we walked toward them and along the park path, they began to stand. Some came forward and thanked us; others just laughed or cheered. Soon, one yelled out, “Let’s hear it for Patron Istari! Hip Hip Hooray!” And whatever tiredness I had felt moments before vanished. I walked along the path to the cheers and applause of hundreds of people.

  “Where there was terror and abandonment, now there is joy and hope.” The ambassador said. “Yes, I think you accomplished more than you know.”

  Biff and the Watch fell in around us, as did about fifty more Watch and marines along the way. The people cheered and clapped us all the way back onto St. Michael’s Way. I turned to thank the ambassador again, but he was gone. My mother said, “He asked me to tell you he might stop by to thank you before he departs tomorrow.”

  “Thank me?” I asked, surprised.

  “His words.” She gave me a hug and a kiss.

  “Oh, when the elves depart, the Lodge is for you to use to coordinate the work of the druids and rangers,” I said.

  “Yes, the grandmaster told me it was to be a Sanctuary. We also have some beastmasters, hermit holymen, a shaman, and a witch doctor who are joining us against the goblins.”

  I was not sure what that meant, but the more allies the better. She squeezed my arm, gave Biff a quick bear hug, whispered to him, and then walked back into the park.