Chapter Text
The forest was unusually quiet that day. It was not, however, the pleasant, gentle silence to which the inhabitants of its outskirts had grown accustomed. Usually, even on the calmest mornings, birds could be heard somewhere high in the treetops, small creatures darted between the ferns, and the wind stirred the leaves so that the forest seemed to whisper to itself.
That morning, the forest was silent.
Claire noticed it almost immediately. She walked ahead along a narrow path that wound between tall oaks and silvery birches. Her auburn hair was loosely tied back, and a small bag filled with dried herbs, vials, and scraps of cloth hung from her belt. She placed each step carefully, avoiding the young plants growing from the damp earth.
Chris followed behind her. As usual, he was carrying far more than was necessary for an ordinary walk. A knife hung from his belt, a bow was slung across his back, and his eyes constantly swept over their surroundings.
Jill, meanwhile, walked beside him with her hands clasped behind her head.
“I told you we should have stayed home,” she said.
Chris glanced at her over his shoulder.
“You also said it wasn’t going to rain.”
“And it isn’t.”
“It rained all night.”
“But it’s not raining now.”
Chris shook his head.
“That’s a very convincing argument.”
Jill grinned broadly.
“I know.”
Claire let out a quiet laugh.
“You two are impossible.”
“Says the person who can make us stop for two hours because she spotted a rare flower,” Chris pointed out.
Claire turned toward him.
“It was a very rare flower.”
“It was a flower.”
“And it had medicinal properties.”
“Everything has medicinal properties to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Claire.”
“All right. Almost everything.”
Jill chuckled under her breath. For a moment, the atmosphere became light again. They had been together for years. In fact, it was difficult to imagine them any other way. Chris was Claire’s older brother and the kind of person who instinctively took responsibility for everything and everyone. Jill had entered their lives even before Claire could remember, and over time she had become someone just as close to her as family.
The three of them lived in a small settlement of elves located at the very edge of the forest. Or rather, even farther beyond it.
Their home stood away from the other dwellings, hidden among the trees and covered in ivy. They did not need much. Chris knew how to hunt, Jill was skilled at tracking and defense, while Claire took care of herbs and healing. They lived peaceful lives. At least, most of the time.
Claire suddenly stopped. Chris nearly walked straight into her.
“What?”
She did not answer. She was staring ahead.
Jill grew serious.
“Claire?”
The elf crouched down and placed her hand against the ground. For several seconds, nothing happened. Then she closed her eyes. Magic answered. A delicate, greenish light appeared beneath her fingers and spread through the earth in thin, almost invisible lines. Claire listened to the rhythm of the forest. To its breathing. To the pulse of its roots. To the water flowing deep beneath the ground. And then she felt something she should not have felt. Pain.
Claire’s eyes snapped open.
“Something’s wrong.”
Chris immediately stopped joking.
“What do you feel?”
“I don’t know.”
She moved her hand across the damp earth.
“The forest is… weak.”
Jill crouched beside her.
“Weak?”
Claire nodded.
“As if something is draining its strength.”
Chris looked around at the trees.
“It’s been getting worse for weeks.”
Claire did not answer. She knew. She had seen it before. Wilting flowers. Dead birds. Animals becoming restless. Places where plants stopped growing despite having access to water and sunlight. At first, everyone had thought it was an ordinary disease. Then they stopped being so sure.
Claire rose to her feet.
“Let’s keep going.”
Chris looked at her worriedly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
They continued. The deeper they went into the forest, the more Claire felt as though something was watching them from hiding. She could not say what. There were no signs of predators. No scent of an unfamiliar creature. There were not even any sounds. Only silence. An unnatural, heavy silence. They passed a small stream.
Jill stopped at its bank.
“Look.”
The water was murky. Claire crouched down.
“It shouldn’t look like this.”
“Maybe something died upstream.” Chris said.
“No.”
Claire dipped her fingers into the water. Her magic trembled. She pulled them out immediately.
“Something is in the water.”
Chris reached for his knife.
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire looked deeper into the forest.
“But it’s nearby.”
For a moment, no one spoke.
Jill sighed.
“Great.”
Chris glanced at her.
“What?”
“It’s starting to get interesting.”
“Jill…”
“I’m joking.”
They continued onward. Several minutes later, Claire heard something else. A quiet crack. She stopped.
“Did you hear that?”
Chris nodded.
Jill was already drawing her bow.
“There.”
She pointed between the trees.
Claire took a few steps forward. And then she saw him. Beneath a huge, ancient oak lay a figure. At first glance, he looked like someone who had simply fallen asleep. Only after a moment did Claire notice the blood. A lot of blood.
“Oh gods…”
She ran.
Chris and Jill followed. Claire dropped to her knees beside the wounded figure. He was an elf. She had no doubt about that. He had pointed ears, a pale face, and long, light-brown hair, partially stuck to his temples with blood and sweat. But there was something different about him.
Very different. His clothing was dark and practical, suited for moving through the forest. The leather pieces were worn, yet crafted with remarkable care. A broken bow lay beside him.
And on his chest was a symbol.
Claire knew it. Her heart beat faster.
“Chris…”
The older elf knelt beside her.
“What?”
Claire pointed to the symbol.
Chris froze.
Jill looked over his shoulder.
“No…”
“That’s impossible.” Chris said.
Claire looked at them.
“What?”
Chris was silent for a moment.
“It’s the mark of the Guardians.”
Claire felt a shiver run through her. The Guardians. Ancient stories. A legendary order of elves who, according to the tales, had protected the forest since the beginning of its existence. They were bound to nature more strongly than anyone else. They were said to hear the voices of trees, understand the speech of animals, and sense even the slightest change in the forest’s balance.
According to legend, the last of them had died many generations ago. Only stories remained.
Claire looked at the wounded elf.
“But…”
Jill crouched beside her.
“Looks like the legends were at least partly true.”
Chris shook his head.
“We can’t say that yet.”
“Chris, he has exactly the same symbol.”
“I know.”
“And?”
Chris looked at the unconscious elf.
“And if he really is one of them, then it means we have a much bigger problem than we thought.”
Claire was no longer listening to their conversation. All her attention was focused on the wounded elf. He was breathing. Barely. His chest rose unevenly.
“He’s alive.”
Jill exhaled.
“How bad is it?”
Claire examined his body. He had a deep wound in his side, several smaller cuts across his arms and face, and marks that looked as though something powerful had struck him in the back. But the worst injury was the wound in his abdomen. Blood was still seeping through the torn fabric.
“Very bad.”
Chris immediately knelt down.
“Can you heal him?”
Claire did not answer immediately. She disliked that question. Healing magic was never a simple art. It was not enough to place a hand over a wound and speak a few words. Healing required an understanding of the body, the flow of energy, and the proper use of nature’s power.
Claire knew more about it than anyone they knew. But this elf… Something was wrong with him.
“I’ll try.”
She removed the bag from her shoulder and placed it on the ground. Then she held both hands above the wound.
“Step back a little.”
Chris and Jill did as she asked. Claire closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.
“Terra… silva… vitae…”
The earth beneath her knees trembled slightly. Green light appeared between her fingers. At first, it was faint. Then it grew brighter. The plants around her began to react. Small shoots emerged from the earth, and the moss covering the oak’s roots glowed with a soft radiance.
Claire directed the magic toward the wounded elf. Green light flowed into his body. And immediately went out.
Claire opened her eyes.
“What…?”
She tried again. This time, with greater force. Energy moved across his skin. The wound began to close. Slowly. Barely noticeably.
Claire clenched her teeth.
“Come on…”
She focused all her strength. Light spread around them.
Chris watched her in silence. Jill did as well. Claire could feel magic flowing through her body. She could feel the roots. The trees. The water. The earth. But whenever she tried to touch the wounded elf’s energy, something pushed her away. It was not ordinary resistance. It was something far stronger. As if his body itself rejected every form of foreign magic.
Claire frowned.
“Why…”
Suddenly, she pulled her hands back. The green light disappeared.
Claire staggered. Chris caught her by the arm.
“Claire.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost fainted.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Jill looked at the wounded elf.
“And him?”
Claire looked back at the elf. The wound was slightly smaller. Only slightly. The bleeding had stopped. That was all.
“I managed to stop the bleeding.”
Chris looked at the wound.
“That’s good.”
“It’s not enough.”
“Claire…”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He should already be starting to regenerate. Nature’s magic should have responded. But his body…”
She trailed off.
“What?”
Claire placed a hand against his forehead. It was burning.
“He has a fever.”
Jill looked at her.
“From the wound?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire studied his face. He was younger than she had initially thought. He did not look like someone who could be a legendary Guardian. He looked more like an ordinary elf. Just tired. Very tired.
“We need to take him home.”
Chris immediately looked at her.
“Home?”
“Yes.”
“Claire, we don’t know what attacked him.”
“I know.”
“We don’t know if he’s safe.”
Claire turned her head.
“Chris.”
“What?”
“He’s dying.”
Chris fell silent.
Claire spoke more quietly.
“If we leave him here, he won’t survive.”
Jill stood up.
“She’s right.”
Chris sighed.
“I’m not saying we leave him.”
“Good.”
“I’m just saying we need to be careful.”
Claire looked at him.
“We will.”
Chris looked at the unconscious elf.
Then at his sister.
“All right.”
Jill crouched down.
“We need something to carry him on. We’ll have to make a stretcher.”
Claire was already pulling a bandage from her bag.
“First, I need to dress the wound.”
“All right.”
Chris walked several steps away, looking for suitable branches. Jill stayed with Claire. For a moment, the two women were silent.
“Do you think he really is a Guardian?” Jill finally asked.
Claire looked at the symbol on his chest.
“I don’t know.”
“But?”
Claire gently adjusted the fabric around his shoulder.
“But if he is…”
“Then?”
Claire looked at the forest.
“Maybe we’ve just found the answer to why everything here is starting to die.”
Jill grew serious.
“You think he knows?”
“If he is who we think he is, probably.”
“Assuming he wakes up.”
Claire pressed her lips together.
“He will.”
Jill raised an eyebrow.
“You sound certain.”
“He has to.”
“That’s not a medical argument.”
“I don’t care.”
Jill smiled faintly.
“Well, well. Claire Redfield has decided to save a legend.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Claire Redfield has decided to save a wounded elf.”
“Sure.”
“Jill.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
Chris returned with several thick branches.
“Done.”
It took them several minutes to build a makeshift stretcher.
Claire checked the wounded elf’s condition again. His breathing was still shallow.
“We need to hurry.”
Chris knelt down.
“I’ll help.”
Jill stood on the other side. Together, they carefully lifted the elf. When Claire touched his hand, she suddenly felt something strange. Not magic. Not exactly. More like an echo. As if, for a brief moment, she found herself somewhere else. She saw the forest. But not as it was now. Healthy. Full of light. Green. Animals ran between the trees. Birds circled high above the canopy. And among it all stood the same elf.
Alone.
He held a bow. And he was looking toward something Claire could not see. The image vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Claire blinked rapidly.
“Claire?”
Chris’s voice brought her back to reality.
“What?”
“Are you all right?”
Claire looked at her hand.
“Yes.”
She wasn’t sure. But she did not want to talk about it now.
Chris and Jill started walking with the stretcher. Claire walked beside them. After a few steps, she looked back at the old tree beneath which they had found the elf. Something was wrong. The oak was dying. Not completely. Not yet. But its leaves were beginning to turn yellow, even though summer was not yet over.
Claire stopped for a moment. She touched its bark.
“Hold on.” she whispered.
She did not know whether she was speaking to the tree. To the forest. Or to the elf.
Chris looked at her.
“Claire?”
“I’m coming.”
She hurried after them.
The journey home was long.
Several times they had to stop because the wounded elf began breathing too shallowly. Claire would check his pulse, give him a few drops of herbal infusion, and dress the wound again. He never woke up. But he was alive.
That was enough.
When the sun began to slowly sink toward the horizon, the first signs of their home appeared between the trees. Smoke rising from the chimney. A wooden fence.
Claire’s small garden, where dozens of medicinal plants grew. And finally, the cottage itself.
Claire looked at Chris.
“Careful.”
“I know.”
Jill opened the door.
“Where should we put him?”
Claire immediately pointed toward the bedroom.
“On my bed.”
Chris looked at her.
“Claire…”
“Don’t start.”
“But…”
“Chris.”
Jill snorted.
“Don’t argue with the healer.”
Chris sighed.
“Fine.”
They went inside.
The door closed behind them. And with it began a story none of them was yet aware of. The story of the last Guardian of the Forest. And the elf who was destined to save his life.