We woke up before everyone else.

  The house was still asleep, but the forest…

  The forest was alive.

  We left the village, and nostalgia hit my chest so hard it felt like someone had thrown open an old door in my memory.

  — Do you remember? — Mira said quietly, looking at the path.

  — Everything, — I replied. — Every branch.

  We walked along the familiar road—the very one where we’d run as kids, dueled with sticks, where I froze the river for the first time, and Mira set half the bushes on fire for the first time.

  Now, life ruled here.

  The forest hummed.

  We heard people working.

  Axes biting into wood.

  Children laughing somewhere in the distance.

  Someone dragging logs, someone building, someone humming an elven melody under their breath.

  When people noticed us, many stopped.

  They stared for a long moment.

  Some whispered—but then returned to their work.

  Mira looked around with such wonder it felt like she was trying to memorize every stone.

  — They’ve… done so much, — she whispered. — Zen, they’ve grown…

  — Are you proud of them?

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  — Very.

  She wiped a small tear away with her finger and immediately snorted.

  — Don’t look at me like that. Just got something in my eye.

  We walked on.

  Suddenly, Mira froze.

  — What… is that? — she pointed at a stone building.

  — A magic school, — I said.

  — What kind of damn magic school—in OUR village?! — Mira shot toward the door like lightning.

  Inside were about a dozen elven children and a couple of human kids. They were quietly copying runes.

  While we watched, one boy jumped in fright, dropping his book.

  Mira immediately picked it up.

  — Whoa! This is amazing… everything’s so clear! Even I would’ve understood this as a kid!

  — Teacher, where did you get this?

  The elven teacher, pale as snow, replied:

  — The Council of Branches gave it to us… said this book was written by… Zenhald Helvard.

  Mira turned toward me.

  Slowly.

  Very slowly.

  With a look like I’d been hiding the world’s greatest treasure from her.

  — You. Wrote. This?

  — Well… yeah.

  She smiled wide and warm.

  — I’m proud of you, little brother.

  And something inside me trembled. For a moment, everything felt brighter.

  We reached a massive tree—the very one that had become the center of the new city. Its crown stretched into the sky, runes softly glowing on its bark.

  A young elf stepped out from within.

  — I am the keeper of this city, — he said with a respectful bow. — The Council of Branches temporarily entrusted me with watching over everything while they are away.

  Mira made a comical face.

  — Eeeeh… I really wanted to see them. What, did they go even higher up again?

  At the sight of her, the keeper nearly fainted—his ears trembled, eyes widened, and he smiled like a child staring at sweets.

  — You are… Zenhald Helvard…

  — And… Mira Helvard?!

  — Yes, — we answered together.

  He almost bounced in place.

  — We are endlessly grateful to you, Zenhald! Your books… they changed everything. Learning magic became ten times easier!

  Mira nudged me with her elbow.

  — Turns out you’re a genius.

  — I didn’t do it on purpose…

  — Don’t be modest!

  The keeper, trembling with emotion, said:

  — I will immediately send word to the Council of Branches. They will be here… tomorrow evening!

  He rushed upward, leaving a trail of magical light behind him.

  — Well then, — Mira took a deep breath. — While the Council’s on its way… shall we go home?

  She grabbed my hand.

  — Race you! Like when we were kids!

  — You always cheated!

  — Then traditions must be respected!

  We ran through the forest, laughing, as if wars, deaths, and storms had never existed.