I
Chapter One · 1st Day of Travel, West Vainil
Naive Nostalgia
July 31, 2025
🏘️
West Vainil · Dawn
From the hill above his village, Dedovor Mailat looked down one last time.
Clean rooftops. Empty streets. Farmers in the early fields. The baker's boy drawing water.
His family's house — bright with colour and gold — looked down on the town. A scholar's house. An arcanist's house.
"My parents were scholars of magic. I became the youngest graduate of the Solarlight school. They were proud."
And then the Code. The High Monarch's Code of Arcane Ethics and Responsibilities. Rules. Restrictions. A leash on every spell.
"I resented the limitations. I always have. Such rules are, at their heart, a mechanism of control."
"And so I am going west. Further west than any elf has ventured. Into the unmapped."
"This journal is either my record of success — or the thing found in some foul creature's grasp."
End of Chapter I
II
Chapter Two · The Vidain Mountains
Arrival in the West
November 6, 2025
⛰️
The Vidain Mountain Range · First of Its Kind
He had done it. The first elf to stand here. The sacred river Ailoda ran through the vale below — clean and cold and impossibly still.
He spent his first day in the water. Swimming. Watching the animals along the banks. Not taking notes. Not performing.
"Just being somewhere no one had been. That was enough."
That night, the dream.
"A conflagration. A spark of life. The fire of birth."
"Then — nothing. Darkness. I was in the vale, but silent. Utterly silent. I stumbled toward a burning light and became lost in a dark forest."
"I sat alone for ages, feeling nothing."
🌲
On his second day in the vale, Dedovor knew he had to venture into the forest he had seen in his dreams.
End of Chapter II
III
Chapter Three · 2nd Day in the Vale
The Things In The Forest
January 11, 2026
🌳
The Sighing Woods · Dawn
The Sighing Woods. Trunks rising like great pillars. A canopy that swallowed the sun. Darkness by day.
He lit his way with arcane light. The soil was a strange, deep blue.
Hundreds of blue snails fed on the undergrowth — dancing away from his light.
"The forest had a rich, sweet smell. Not from the plants. From the floor itself."
"I considered licking one of the snails. The desire was immense. I stopped myself."
💤
The trees creaked as though snoring — a great cacophonous slumber. At times he swore some of them moved as though breathing, heaving ancient breaths they had held within them for aeons.
Then — one tree, larger than the others. A thick gash carved in its bark. Hollowed. Inside, the trunk stretched upward into darkness.
Below: a wooden slope, spiralling downward into the earth. Rough. Naturally formed, not carved.
The sweet scent was cloying here. The true origin. A wet, sucking, slapping sound rose from below.
Then: a great gush of wind from the slope, nearly sending him flying. The bark of the tree pulsed and heaved — as though it had let out a long, satisfying sigh.
"I stood in awe for a few moments, delighted with my discovery. And then I descended."
End of Chapter III
IV
Chapter Four · 2nd Night in the Vale
The Slime
January 18, 2026
Underground · The Cavern
The slope ended in a vast cavern. Knee-deep in slime. The sweetness was overwhelming now — everywhere, in everything.
"I ate some. My instincts screamed at me not to. I ate more. It was the most addictive thing I have ever consumed."
Delirious. Ravenous. Time dissolved.
The snails. Not the small ones from before. These were massive — some larger than him. Closing in. Shrieking.
Then: a flash of firelight. From somewhere above. Breaking through. Breaking the spell.
He ran. Up the slope. Through the dark. Back into the forest. Missing his camp entirely.
"My recollection is hazy. Unreliable. Perhaps I was not entirely myself down there."
"Perhaps I still am not."
End of Chapter IV
V
Chapter Five · And the Voice on the Wind
The Second Dream
January 25, 2026
He was running through the dark forest, desperate and lost. From somewhere on the wind — a voice.
Voice on the Wind
"Go left."
He panicked. Went right. Ran directly into a tree.
Darkness.
The dream. A forest clearing bathed in bright light — coming from his own body.
Dozens of small creatures with wings and human-like faces circled him. Weaving silk together. Whispering.
✨
One creature landed in his open palm. Began to whistle. A beautiful tune. A calming tune. The others joined — an ethereal chorus.
A blaze of dazzling lights and twisting shadows. They danced. The melody continued and continued — until, gradually, it brought morning.
"I woke to daylight. Feeling, for the first time since entering those woods, safe."
End of Chapter V
VI
Chapter Six · And the Third Dream
The Wind
February 1, 2026
𝕐
◉ — ◉
〜〜〜〜〜〜
The Figure at the Clearing
Wooden antlers. A face of carved grooves. Hair of viridescent vines, hung with wooden tablets inscribed with runes in a language he could not read.
The Wind
"I saved you from the snails. I activated your dreams to prevent the poisoning from taking hold."
The Wind
"I will be your guide. West."
Dedovor
"I don't need a guide."
The Wind
"You will."
It was not a threat. It was simply a fact. The kind of fact that could not be argued with.
End of Chapter VI
VII
Chapter Seven · 7th Day of Travel, The Steppe
A Week of Travel
February 8, 2026
The Great Steppe · Day 7
Seven days. The road was long behind them. They were, by any honest reckoning, lost.
"The Wind says very little. When it does speak, it says nothing useful. I find this deeply frustrating."
"And yet — the steppe. I appreciate this. No law, no culture, no endless expectations of progress. Just sky and grass and silence."
"Sun elf society would call this wasteful. I call it honest."
🌿
The Wind stopped. Dismounted. Rose slowly into the air. Its vine-hair unfurled — spreading upward, a great swirling prism.
The wooden tablets began to glow. Blue. One vine split into two, producing a new blank tablet. The runes wrote themselves.
The Wind
"A message has been received. Would you like to listen to it with me, Dedovor?"
End of Chapter VII
VIII
Chapter Eight · 7th Night of Travel, The Steppe
The Message On The Wind
February 15, 2026
Dedovor
"What are you? What just happened?"
The Wind
"I am a Conduit of the Wind. A message was sent on the wind, and I received it. Each message causes a vine to split — you can see the new tablet."
The Wind
"When I can split no more, my service will be complete. I will blow away."
Dedovor
"Ekhidon — I've read about this. An ancient civilisation. Built from organic materials. The Inekhed — plant-people, fungi-people."
Dedovor
"I have to go there."
The Wind
"The path is not easy. The steppe first. Then the Songless Mire. Lizardmen in the jungles. The Crimson Plain beyond."
Dedovor
"Good. That is exactly what I was hoping for."
End of Chapter VIII
IX
Chapter Nine · 9th Night of Travel, The Steppe
Ancient Magicks
February 22, 2026
Dedovor
"Can you teach me? What you can do — this Conduit power?"
The Wind
"No. One does not choose the path of the conduit."
The Wind
"Nor is it a divine gift. I was made by nature to serve it."
Six forces. Six Conduits to each. Wind. Sun. Stars. Moon. Earth. Sea.
Not gods. Not magic. Nature itself, given form and purpose.
"I have spent my whole life studying arcane ethics and nobody once mentioned this."
🌕
They rode by moonlight. The steppe was silver and silent. And then Dedovor's skin — golden, sun-elf gold — caught the full moon and blazed.
The Wind
"The moon elves. They control moonlight. They can see us through it. We must move."
Five of them. Descending from the mountains on winged creatures. Grey-skinned riders. Eyes like the moon — pale, cold, and very awake.
The chase had begun.
End of Chapter IX
X
Chapter Ten · 9th Night of Travel, The Steppe
Riders in the Night
March 8, 2026
🦅
The Steppe · Full Moon
The horse galloped. The winged beasts swooped. Lightning-laced blades sliced the dark. One rider — the most skilled — closed in.
Dedovor tried to unseat her with magic. The spell shattered on her like water on stone.
He leapt from the horse. The creature swept overhead. He had seconds.
"The bedroll. My bedroll. It was reflective enough."
He spread it wide. Caught the full moon. Angled the light beneath the creature's jaw — and there it was.
A translucent gem. Glowing in the reflected light. A weakness.
He channelled fire. Directed it at the gem. The creature shrieked. Destabilised. Fell.
He did not move out of the way.
It crashed down on him.
"And I began to dream."
End of Chapter X
XI
Chapter Eleven · 9th Night of Travel, The Steppe
Thunderstruck
March 15, 2026
♛
A dream. Thunderstorm. Clouds he floated through. On one of them: a golden crown. Turquoise inlay. A single black gem.
Lightning struck the crown. Blinded him. He woke.
The Steppe · After The Fall
Trapped under the dead creature. He pushed, struggled, freed himself piece by piece into cold night air.
The moon elf was waiting. Lightning sword crackling. Her riders behind her.
Moon Elf
"What is your purpose on our steppe?"
Dedovor
"We're researchers. Going west to Ekhidon. Someone there sent a message — they need help."
Moon Elf
"Ekhidon was destroyed long ago. There is no one there to send messages."
She did not lower her sword. She looked at the other riders. Something passed between them — silent, in the way of her kind.
And then — in his mind. The Wind's voice. Barely a whisper. Urgent as a blade.
The Wind — Telepathic
"They just told them to kill us, Dedovor."
The steppe. The sword. The riders.
The last of Ekhidon, alone, waiting.
The Wind, finite, faithful.
Dedovor Mailat — where he was always going.
The last of Ekhidon, alone, waiting.
The Wind, finite, faithful.
Dedovor Mailat — where he was always going.
"They just told them to kill us, Dedovor."
· To Be Continued ·
End of Chapter XI — What Lies West? continues
Valardia World
The serial fiction What Lies West? publishes on the Valardia Substack.
Follow the journey of Dedovor Mailat into the unmapped west.
Synaptic Media Ltd · 2026