Underneath the heat of the blazing sun, a son of man ran across the hot pavement and pedestrian roads. His feet pounded with each step, and he swerved left and right, dodging other passerby. He had one thing in mind—get home.
And yet something bugged him.
Items in his arms, they felt inadequate. Insufficient to bring to a Wooden Elf from a world beyond his own. But what could he do? Han Jing moved on to his apartment with nothing but his determination.
The safety of his family and the rest of the people lay on his shoulders.
Alliances or not, the fair folk were a tricky race of all the things he had gathered from other mediums. There must be a hint of truth to the things that he saw on television and other media—where else would they have gotten information like 'law of hospitality' and such?
Swiftly, doggedly and determined, Han Jing ran.
Unbeknownst to him, a certain individual watched from above, or rather watched it all on their clearest screen display—both for duty and entertainment. The Creators also considered the out of world meetings seriously, and the reason for alliances had always been meeting up in one of the current worlds.
But their jurisdiction wasn't as strictly tied to this plane and their influence distant. But the little girl could have eaten some popcorn as she watched the scene unfold. A snort escaped her lips, and on another screen showed a Demon Lord evading the Cultivators in the city and trying to locate the man once again.
"This could have been a little more interesting," she muttered to herself, and yet her eyes were alight with mischief. She smoothed her white dress and tried not to ruffle her nerves. "What could occur with a Demon of a Lord's standing, a Wooden Elf from the Elven Court, and a simple Human?" she said aloud. Behind her came a lack of response from her fellow peers.
Perhaps she should have thrown the Mermaid into the mix, but this much was also enough—at least it wouldn't turn the World's eyes on this strange event. Not now, at least.
—-
Sweat pooled on his back, a man grasped his knee with a tired hand and with a staggered breathing, the man's exhaustion was visible inside the fourth floor of the apartment. Soaked dark hair was pushed back behind his face, and he finally looked up to behold his guest.
A regular-looking person. Mundane in all ways. There was nothing to note their appearance. Was this some random hobo— "You've finally returned, Han Jing." A rich voice escaped his lips. The person's eyes glinted at him. Until he paused and repeated his name, "Han Jing."
Yes, there was something odd about this person. This was the Wood Elf, except his appearance was plain. Until Han Jing realized it was similar to what the Illusionary Mage had done back in Kraelonia Academy—except that the disguise was more complete.
"... That's my name?" he nodded briefly. If he tried to use his [ Mana Sense ] it was there that something fine came to his senses, almost indistinguishable with the air between them.
"That's your True Name!" the Wood Elf frowned.
Han Jing blinked and nearly dropped the food in his arms—a memory came back to his brain. An earlier conversation in the past had talked about him not revealing his True Name, but now the Wood Elf tried to exert his influence? He glared at him, "I don't think it's proper for a guest to shout at their host."
And as if he said some magical words, the person in front of him straightened. The guest's dark eyes gleamed and sparkled to a rich shade of olive green for a moment and his lips widened into a smile, "Ah, yes, that is correct. This one is a person seeking to abide in your residence—will you grant me entry into your home?"
The air vibrated with magic.
It was the only thing that Han Jing could ascribe to the particular sensation, and the earlier moments of a plain and simple man gave way to this situation instead. Something hovered in his vision, but he did not need [ Dangersense ] to understand where he had landed himself in.
An actual conversation with the Wood Elf, an elven descent.
Now that they were away from the game of the Creators and in their actual forms—the rules changed. Everything was on the opponent's winning side if he didn't pay close attention. He cleared his throat for a moment. "For a traveller from afar, and by this one's name, Han Jing, I invite you to this place as a place to rest and sojourn for some time under the laws of hospitality and peace."
The Wood Elf had called himself a 'person' and not a 'guest'.
The wind relaxed and tousled his hair. A small laugh escaped the Wood Elf's lips, and he nodded, "Very well. I will abide by the rules, and I hope the host does as well."
"I will, thank—"
It was another pause in the air. The Wood Elf smiled at him, "Do you owe me a debt? I think you were about to thank me."
"No." Han Jing bit down his tongue and stared at the man. Contrary, quite contrary to how they interacted in the otherworld—there was no Creators' Will that protected him here and also kept other Races in check. It would have been a fool's ending to believe otherwise. He reached for the door and opened it, suddenly seeing his little sister.
Fortunately, Jinjing was on their dining table and doing homework—she gave him a look. A look that spoke volumes of doubt at the person he had behind him, but he was relieved to see her safe and sound. "I, uh, have someone over. They're a fr—a guest of mine." Han Jing stepped into his home and offered the same for the Wood Elf.
And the Elf went through easily, if only with a particular wince and glaring at some things inside of the house. And yet he said nothing else, only smiled. "Ah, does this child believe me now that I'm friends with your brother?"
Jinjing frowned at him, but nodded.
Han Jing shot a look at his sister, earning a glare from her, before he gave the Wood Elf a look. The person only returned it with a smile and continued with looking on at the surroundings. "Quite a quaint place you have, Han...Jing. It reminds me of a particular treehouse I had in the past decades."
The word 'quaint' to politely say it was 'small', he had no words to say to that. Instead, Han Jing approached the table and placed what he had bought on the table—two boxes filled with the things that he could afford. One box for home and the other for the guest. Han Jing might have opted to buy a scarf like what Chan Lee had told him, but there was also the chance that the Wood Elf wouldn't like it.
He took a deep breath and prepared himself. Something thickened in his throat, a stuffy feeling before he turned back to the Wood Elf and placed his hands behind his back.
He had no clue on what to call him.
Han Jing just couldn't call him anything, but to call him simply 'Wood Elf' would attract attention from his sister. And not the good kind. He thought for a second and then looked at the screen. An idea came to mind.
"Uh, Hazel—would you like to join us at the table? I would like to give my gift to you since you came here as a guest." Han Jing needed to repeat it now and then. It was too much and redundant, but better he overdid it than forget it.
"Ooh, and what is it that you have for me?" the Wood Elf waltzed over to the table and looked at the box with some interest. He traced his fingers over the box's design. "I hope it is a sufficient gift, befitting of my nature."
It happened in a flash. The outline of a pointed ear—he blinked and pressed a hand over his eyes. A sweltering pain flash over him and he heard a ding of a notification.
"Isn't it rude to stare, dear host?" the Wood Elf grinned at him.
Han Jing felt the look of his sister and brushed it off. He managed a laugh, "Yes—uh, let me open one of these boxes for you to show you what's the real thing I brought you." Utter no thank-you's, utter no apologies were some, if not one of the most important things to remember. He had seen it in a couple of movies. And it made sense to him.
Elves were part of the fey, as were Faeries and other races like Satyr and such. It made sense that they would operate on the same rules. Han Jing had to play it cool—
"I can do it on my own, dear host." the Wood Elf threw open the box, and the contents gleamed from within.