This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, and settings are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.

The story, "My Bride from the Elf's Forest", is an original creation by the author and is not affiliated with or derived from any existing copyrighted work. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this material without permission is prohibited.

Prologue:

The world is not kind to those who are different.

That’s what Yuta had learned. Not in one day. Not in one moment. But in the slow grind of everyday life—the whispers behind his back, the way people turned their eyes away, and the hollow silence that followed him everywhere he went.

He wasn’t born a monster. He wasn’t even mean. But one accident when he was a child left a burn across his face and down his left arm. Since then, people stopped seeing him—they only saw the scars.

It started with glances. Then whispers. Then outright cruelty.

“Freak.”

“Don’t touch him.”

“Did you see his face?”

“Cursed.”

He stopped trying to talk to people. Stopped trying to smile. Eventually, even teachers gave up on calling his name in class.

At seventeen, he lived in silence.

And silence can destroy a person more slowly than any blade.

Chapter 1: The Last Night

The storm rolled in like a beast on the hunt.

Yuta sat in his room, watching the rain blur the world outside his window. Lightning lit up the sky in flashes. He could hear the distant rumble of thunder, like the sky was slowly tearing open.

No one knocked on his door. No one asked where he was.

His parents had long since stopped checking on him. He lived like a ghost in their home—silent meals, closed doors, unanswered questions. His presence was more burden than bond.

Tonight was different.

Tonight, he had made up his mind.

He stood up, grabbing the school rope he had taken weeks ago. He tucked it under his hoodie and left without making a sound. The clock on the wall read 11:48 PM.

The forest behind the school was ancient and dense, full of twisted trees and rumors. No one went there anymore, not even for dares. At its heart stood a massive tree, older than anything in the town—its bark blackened, its roots spread like claws.

They called it the Thousand-Year Tree.

Yuta had always felt drawn to it. It stood alone, just like him. A relic the world had forgotten.

He reached the tree just as the rain thickened. Drops hit his face like cold needles. His shoes squelched in the mud as he looked up.

“Guess this is it,” he whispered to no one.

He tied the rope to a low-hanging branch, his fingers shaking. Not from fear. Just from the cold.

He stood beneath the noose, looking up at the sky.

Lightning flashed again, so close it turned the world white for a heartbeat.

Boom.

His heart pounded. His legs trembled.

And still—he didn’t move.

He closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the night.

The rope slid around his neck.

Then—

CRACK.

A sound like the heavens ripping in two. But it wasn’t thunder.

Yuta’s eyes flew open.

The tree… glowed.

Not from the lightning. From within.

Golden lines lit up along the bark, pulsing like veins. A circle of strange symbols formed at his feet. The wind rose in a spiral, lifting the leaves, the rain, and Yuta himself into the air.

“What—?!”

He couldn’t scream.

The light consumed him.

And then—

Silence.

---

When Yuta opened his eyes again, the storm was gone.

He lay on soft grass that shimmered faintly under a silver moon. The air smelled like flowers and morning dew. Strange blue leaves rustled gently above him.

“Am I… dead?” he whispered.

“No,” a soft voice answered.

He turned his head. A girl knelt beside him—tall, graceful, with long white hair and glowing violet eyes. Her skin glowed faintly under the moonlight, and her pointed ears twitched slightly.

She wasn’t human.

“You’re safe,” she said, brushing his wet hair back. “Can you speak?”

“...Who are you?”

“My name is Elira,” she said. “I found you unconscious near the Spirit Tree.”

“Where… am I?”

Her expression softened. “You’re far from where you were.”

Yuta’s eyelids grew heavy again. He tried to fight it, but the warmth of her voice, the safety of the forest, and the pull of exhaustion dragged him back under.

---

He awoke again to birdsong and warm sunlight.

This time, he wasn’t outside. He was in a small wooden house, covered in soft blankets. The bed was carved with vines and symbols. A window let in beams of golden light.

He sat up slowly, clutching his aching head.

The door opened.

Elira stepped in with a bowl of water and a cloth.

“You’re awake,” she smiled. “You were burning with fever when I found you.”

Yuta stared at her. “You… brought me here?”

“I couldn’t leave you out there,” she said simply. “You were alone. And injured.”

He glanced around. “This… this isn’t Earth, is it?”

She shook her head. “No. This is Eldaria. Land of the Elves.”

Yuta stared at his hands.

“I should have died,” he said.

“But you didn’t,” she replied gently. “The forest must have chosen you.”

Before he could respond, a loud knock came at the door.

Elira tensed.

Outside, voices murmured. She cracked the door open. An elderly elf with silver braids and a wooden staff stood outside, surrounded by curious villagers.

“Elira,” he said solemnly. “You know the law.”

“What law?” Yuta asked weakly.

The elder’s eyes fell on him. “He spent the night in your home?”

“Yes,” Elira answered cautiously.

“With no ceremony? No announcement?”

She paused.

Yuta saw her panic.

Then she said, “We… we are already married.”

The room went still.

Yuta’s breath caught.

The elder raised an eyebrow. “Is that true?”

“Yes. We married two days ago, in the forest,” she said quickly. “He is my husband.”

The elder gave her a long look.

Then nodded.

“Very well. We welcome your bond.”

They left as quickly as they had come.

Elira closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh.

Yuta finally found his voice. “Why… did you lie?”

“There’s an ancient rule,” she said. “If an unmarried man and woman spend the night under the same roof, they must be wed. If I hadn’t said that… they would have driven you out.”

Yuta looked down at his hands.

He didn’t know what he felt.

Shock. Confusion. Maybe something like… relief?

No one had ever protected him before.

“Now what?” he asked softly.

She met his eyes.

“Now… we have to act like a married couple.”

—

To be Continued….

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, and settings are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.

The story, "My Bride from the Elf's Forest", is an original creation by the author and is not affiliated with or derived from any existing copyrighted work. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this material without permission is prohibited.

Chapter 2: The Elf Girl

The small wooden cottage was quiet. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden light on the wooden floor and the small table where a loaf of bread and a bowl of berries sat untouched.

Yuta sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the blanket.

Everything from the night before echoed in his mind—Elira’s lie, the elder’s acceptance, the word “marriage” still ringing in his ears. It didn’t feel real.

But the gentle scent of herbs and flowers that hung in the air, the warmth of the room, and the faint rustling of leaves outside—it was all too vivid to be a dream.

He wasn’t in his world anymore.

He was in hers.

The door creaked open. Elira stepped in, holding a small wooden tray with a cup of tea and a folded cloth.

“You’re awake,” she said gently.

Yuta nodded, avoiding her eyes.

She set the tray down and sat beside him, careful to leave some space between them.

“I’m sorry I lied,” she said. “I didn’t know what else to do. The villagers are kind, but strict about their traditions. If they knew we hadn’t… you know… they might have forced us apart. Or worse.”

Yuta looked at her slowly. “You… didn’t have to protect me.”

“I wanted to,” she replied.

Those three words stunned him.

No one had ever said something like that to him. Not genuinely.

Elira smiled faintly. “Don’t worry. We’ll just pretend for now. Eventually, the village will forget about it. You won’t be forced into anything.”

Yuta shook his head. “It’s not that.”

He hesitated, then spoke softly. “Why are you so kind to someone like me?”

She blinked. “Someone like you?”

“I’m not… I mean…” He held up his hand, where the faded burn scars still marked his skin.

Elira gently took his hand in hers.

“Does this hurt?” she asked.

He stared at her.

“Not anymore,” he whispered.

“Then it doesn’t matter,” she said with a small smile. “Scars show you’ve survived.”

Her hand was warm.

Yuta didn’t know what to say. His chest tightened—not in pain, but in something unfamiliar.

Relief? Hope?

Maybe both.

---

Elira showed him around her cottage. It was simple but beautiful—wooden furniture carved with floral patterns, shelves filled with books, and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. A small garden grew just outside, where colorful flowers danced in the breeze.

“I live alone,” she explained. “My parents passed away years ago. I was training to become a forest priestess, but I stepped away from that path.”

“Why?” Yuta asked.

“I didn’t want to be tied to a role I didn’t choose. I wanted to live freely, to help others quietly… not from a temple, but from here.”

Yuta followed her to the garden, where she handed him a watering jug.

He hesitated, then watered the plants alongside her.

The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was peaceful.

“Your name is Yuta, right?” she asked after a while.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“It’s a nice name.”

He smiled faintly. “Thanks.”

It was the first real smile he had managed in years.

---

Later, as the sun began to set, Elira cooked a meal over the small hearth. The aroma of herbs and roasted vegetables filled the air.

Yuta helped set the table, fumbling slightly with the unfamiliar plates.

“You’re doing fine,” Elira giggled.

He looked up at her, surprised by how easily she laughed.

Over dinner, they talked. Yuta told her small things—about his school, his favorite music, the food he missed. He left out the pain. For now.

Elira listened intently, her violet eyes never leaving his.

“Your world sounds busy,” she said. “Ours is slower. More connected to nature.”

“I think I like it here,” he admitted quietly.

She looked down at her bowl. “I’m glad.”

---

That night, Elira offered him the bed again.

“You should sleep comfortably,” she said. “You’re still healing.”

“And where will you sleep?” he asked.

“I’ll take the couch,” she replied, smiling.

Yuta paused. “Are we… still pretending?”

She blinked.

“I mean, if people saw us…”

Her smile faded slightly. “You’re right. If anyone visits, they’ll expect us to behave like… husband and wife.”

Yuta looked down. “I don’t want to make this harder for you.”

“You’re not,” she said softly. “Actually… I don’t mind.”

The air was suddenly filled with quiet tension.

He nodded. “Then I’ll take the floor. I’m used to it.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You’re not a burden. You deserve rest.”

Before he could argue, she gently took his arm and guided him back to the bed.

“I’ll stay close,” she whispered. “Just in case you have another fever.”

That night, Yuta lay beneath the covers, wide awake.

Elira sat in the chair beside him, humming softly as she read an old book.

The candlelight flickered across her face, casting her in a soft golden glow.

For the first time, Yuta didn’t feel empty when the night came.

He felt… safe.

---

In the morning, voices echoed outside the cottage.

“Elira! Elira!”

She stepped outside. Yuta stood by the window, watching curiously.

Several villagers had gathered, led by the elder. They spoke urgently, their expressions serious.

Elira turned to Yuta. “Come with me.”

He followed her into the village square, where he drew curious stares. Some villagers smiled. Others murmured quietly.

The elder raised a hand. “People of Aeralen, the Spirit Tree has awakened. A foreigner has appeared, and yet he bears no curse. The winds did not reject him. The forest allowed him through.”

The crowd murmured.

Elira stood beside Yuta, her back straight.

“We will observe this bond,” the elder continued. “But the boy must learn our ways. Until then, he remains under the protection of his wife.”

Elira bowed. “Yes, Elder.”

Yuta blinked. Wife.

He still couldn’t believe it.

---

As they walked back to the cottage, Yuta turned to Elira. “They really believe we’re married, don’t they?”

She nodded. “For now, it’s the safest way.”

Yuta looked at her carefully.

“You’re going through a lot just for me.”

She stopped walking.

“So are you,” she said. “You were ready to give up on your life. But something brought you here. Maybe this world chose you. Or maybe… I did.”

He looked into her eyes.

They were kind. And strong.

“I’m not used to kindness,” he admitted.

“You will be,” she whispered.

And for the first time in forever, Yuta believed her.

To be Continued…

My Bride from the Elf's Forest

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, events, and settings are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.

The story, "My Bride from the Elf's Forest", is an original creation by the author and is not affiliated with or derived from any existing copyrighted work. Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this material without permission is prohibited.

—

Chapter 3: In Elira’s world.

“Cursed…”

“Ugly…”

“A burden on Earth…”

These words echo in Yuta’s mind, his painful past still haunting him. He left that life far behind, yet it feels close—too close.

“Why didn’t he die…?”

“Why is this happening…? Why are these people being so kind to him…?”

Yuta is lost in his thoughts, unaware of what’s happening around him. Countless questions swirl in his mind, filling him with curiosity—about himself, about this strange place, and most intriguing… about Elira.

---

Yuta is in the same room where he had awakened the night before. Elira is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for her dear one—the chosen one. She isn’t sure whether she feels happy, or if there’s a quiet voice whispering, “Is he handsome enough for a girl like me?”

But deep down… she already knows the answer.

Meanwhile, Yuta is caught in a storm of thoughts.

“Just a few days ago, I was living in my own world—a world where even my own people didn’t want me.”

“Now, I’m in another world… and everyone here treats me so differently. So kindly. Such a contrast in how people behave in two different worlds…”

“Is it really so? Are the people of Earth that cruel… compared to Elira’s world?”

---

Yuta’s thoughts were swirling—so many questions, so many feelings—but before his mind could wander any further, a knock on the door snapped him back to reality.

Knock knock.

Someone was outside. Elira swiftly walked to the door and opened it. Standing there was a strikingly beautiful elf girl, her expression calm and composed.

"The Elder has summoned you both for a formal audience. Please make your way to the Spirit Tree," she said gracefully, then turned and disappeared into the morning mist.

As soon as the girl left, Elira shut the door with a quiet thud, her movements suddenly tense.

Yuta looked at her, confused, but before he could speak, Elira turned to him with a gentle smile.

"Breakfast is ready. Eat first… we’ll go afterward."

Yuta wanted to ask what was going on, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he sat down as Elira placed a warm dish before him.

The aroma was enchanting. With the first bite, his eyes widened—he had never tasted food like this before. It was unlike anything he’d eaten back on Earth. He didn’t know the name, didn’t recognize the ingredients, but the flavor danced on his tongue like magic.

In no time, his plate was empty.

Silently, they both stood. It was time to go.

---

The Spirit Tree lay deep within the forest, but there was a path that led to it. Before the forest began, a vast meadow stretched out—lush, green, and gently swaying in the breeze.

The sun was shining brightly, yet the warmth was soft and pleasant. A narrow trail wound through the grass, guiding the way into the mysterious woodland beyond.

There was no sign of any elves nearby. Perhaps they had already gathered near the Spirit Tree.

Yuta had never walked beside a girl like this before. The feeling was strange, new… almost magical. His heart raced wildly in his chest, pounding so loudly it felt like even the wind could hear it.

Was it just him, or could Elira hear it too?

On her side, Elira seemed thoughtful, her expression calm—but inside, her emotions mirrored his. As an elf, she could often sense the feelings of others. Yet strangely, she couldn’t grasp what Yuta was feeling. She tried to tune in, to connect, but for some reason… she couldn’t.

As they walked side by side, their fingers brushed for the briefest second—then quickly pulled apart. The touch was fleeting, but the spark it left behind lingered in their minds.

Unspoken emotions stirred quietly between them, like the first pages of a story neither of them was ready to read.

Still, they both tried to stay focused on the path ahead, pushing aside the thoughts they weren’t sure they were ready to face—yet.

—

After walking for what felt like a dreamy eternity, Yuta and Elira finally arrived at the Tree of Spirit. Though only fifteen minutes had passed, for Yuta, each step had stretched into a moment he wished could last forever.

“I hope we’re not too late,” he murmured to himself.

“You’re slightly late,” a deep yet calm voice greeted them.

An elderly elf stood before them—clearly the leader. His robes were more ornate than the others’, and he held a tall, carved wooden staff, its surface etched with glowing runes.

“I apologize,” Elira replied immediately, her voice respectful.

“It’s quite alright,” the elder said, with a gentle nod.

Yuta was confused. Why had so many gathered here? What was about to unfold? Was it something good… or something dreadful? But deep in his heart, he clung to hope. Ever since Elira came into his life, things had taken a turn for the better—he wanted to believe that trend would continue.

Then, the elder raised his staff slightly, and his voice, though barely above a whisper, rang out across the clearing with supernatural clarity—like the forest itself leaned in to listen.

“As you all know,” he began, “a new soul has joined our family. He passed through the Tree of Spirit—a sacred sign from the higher realms. It is a blessing, a prophecy of light to come.”

Yuta stood frozen, awe washing over him like a tide. Magic—real magic—was in the air. It danced on the wind, shimmered in the leaves, and stirred something ancient inside him.

The elder continued, his voice growing warmer, “And today, we celebrate even more than this omen. Our beloved Elira has chosen this outsider as her husband. By bond and vow, they are now one.”

A wave of gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd. Yuta turned to Elira. She stood tall and calm, her silver eyes sparkling like moonlight on water.

Then the elder raised his staff high. “Let us welcome the couple! With dance, with song, with feast—let the celebration begin!”

A roar of joyous cheers erupted.

Yuta’s heart pounded as he gazed at Elira. She turned and looked at him, and for a few seconds, they stood still—eyes locked in an unspoken language only they understood. The world seemed to fall away.

Then, with a playful glint in her eyes, Elira winked.

Yuta’s breath caught in his throat. His heart stuttered. Embarrassed but overwhelmed, he lowered his gaze, cheeks burning.

But the magic of the moment shattered like glass.

“I object.”

The voice cut through the air like a blade.

Silence slammed over the crowd. Not even the wind dared to move.

Heads turned. All eyes searched. Even Yuta’s.

From the sea of stunned faces, one figure stepped forward—a young male elf. Tall, muscular, strikingly handsome. Stronger, bolder, and more regal than Yuta could ever imagine himself to be.

With a smoldering gaze fixed on the elder, the elf declared with icy finality, “As long as I object, this union cannot proceed.”

—

To be continued…