Lana
The sky above the High Elf Kingdom was bright this morning, as if unaware that the world teetered on the edge of war.
Ezric's and my hair had returned to its normal color—because we weren't here in disguise, but as a symbol of peace, proposed by a human. A human who had always been underestimated by the world.
I walked slowly but steadily, with Lucen and Ezric behind me. We had just passed through the main palace gates, and in my left hand I gripped tightly the carved symbol of Abyssal Hollow—the official token, emblem of cooperation and peace granted by the Demon King.
The elven guards watched us with sharp gazes, but they didn't stop us. We entered formally, and our steps were already recorded in the royal protocol. Still, their stares—suspicious, piercing, as if our presence was some kind of outrageous joke—pressed coldly against the back of my neck.
We arrived at the throne hall.
