In the opulent pace chamber, the elite leaders of the elven tribes gregated uhe watchful eye of their monarch, the Queen.
The High Elf chief stood tall with a regal air, pretending not to notice the envious gnces of the other chiefs. The Wood Elf leader, adorned with leaves and flowers, seemed torween reverence for nature and the allure of courtly extravagance.
Sneaky gnces were exged between the Dark Elf chief, shrouded in mystery, and the Moon Elf leader, whose ethereal beauty masked a shrewd mind. Meanwhile, the Sun Elf chief, basking in an imaginary halo of sunlight, projected an aura of superiority that bordered on blinding.
Amidst the ethereal beauty that filled the chamber, none could rival the mesmerizing presence emanating from the tral figure of the wooden table—Man Le Fay. Her allure outshone even the most resple of elves gathered in that opulent hall.
"Verily, 'tis a wondrous happenstahat my sed daughter doth make her return this day, and anon shall grace us with her presence. Dost thou deign to tarry a while, Your Holiness, and revel in her immi arrival?" the queen asked.
“I’m here to yell at her after all, of course I’ll wait,” Man decred, her words carrying a nont air.
The tribal chieftains, engaged in jovial discourse, swiftly psed into a silence profound. A shiver coursed through their beings, draining hues from their tenances. Never before had they boro the illustrious saint adopting such a casual mien.
She lost the imperial at!
‘She’s serious angry, yeah?’
‘Seems uest is in quite the mood, wouldn't thee say?’ The High Elf Chief bli the Sun Elf Chief, who broke a serious sweat.
‘Indeed, pletely so.’
Moon Elf Chief slooooooowly shifted, intruding High Elf Chief’s peripheral view and bli him too, ‘Pray tell, what revelry is this? What if our fate meets an untimely end this very day?’
The Wood Elf Chief, aggressively eheir view, blinking furiously, ‘Cease thy sun-soaking and moon-gazing, ao the youths lest peril befalls us all!’
Suddenly, the Dark Elf Chief tilted his head, his previously mysterious expression vaurning pletely i-stupid and asked with a blink, ‘Art thou suggesting it s the younglings, dear kin?’
They were actually a band of wholesome uncles.
“Hm?” Man raised her eyebrows. But then, she frowned suspiciously, “She’s here… with a human.”
***
Ah, behold Nahwu, or as her friends fondly dubbed her, Naha—the elf whose beauty could make even unis jealous.
Now, there was also Shorof, the older sis sharing the same gene pool of allure, but she was too busy h wisdom like a dragon guards its gold.
With a smile as rare as a sunny day in the Underworld, Shorof embraced her inner recluse, giving off those "I'm too busy pting the universe to bother with pleasantries" vibes.
While Shorof delved into the realms of nature study, Naha pranced about radiating sunshine and rainbows, tiatus as the dazzling gem of the family tree.
But our radiant elf maiden Nahwu wasn't all sunshine and sparkles—it wasn’t like she had no i in academics at all, she did grace the halls of academia, albeit in the realm of humans.
The sisters fed a pact to trade notes on their respective intellectual pursuits during their visits… until tragedy struck. Shorof's onidable dition took a nosedive, casting a shadow over their schorly ambitions.
Something was wrong. Shorof, a stalwart figure among the elves, possessed a prowess that rivaled even Nahwu's own siderable talents. Despite Nahwu's dominan the realm of Force art, Shorof's expertise in Vision art delved into profound realms, teetering on the brink of enlighte within her specialty.
Their dynamic was a delicate bance of power and skill. While Nahwu reigned supreme in the manipution of forces, she harbored no doubt that in a showdown, Shorof would emerge victorious.
Riddled with her sister’s predit, Nahwu often visited her ba the Great Forest, a routine followed today as well, with an uninvited guest tagging along—the first prince.
“What's got you so on edge? You mentioned yourself that your sister is as strong as an ox. Elves practically live forever, so to us mere mortals, she might just have a case of the sniffles, no?” the prince remarked carelessly.
“What would a human like you know?! If even elves like us are worried about her predit, how dare you say my sister is only catg a cold?!” Nahwu yelled back.
Prince Lo Inkor stumbled upon Nahwu during a shared css, where their iions mostly sisted of heated debates rather thafelt versations due to their vastly differing perspectives.
heless, despite his occasional rudeness, Lo exhibited a genuinely kind nature, as evidenced by his small ued gesture.
Nahwu, struggling with the heavy load of luggage she had brought, required the assistance of several other elves to ma. this, Lo g the excessive baggage and then back at Nahas visibly exasperated.
Feeling pity mixed with exasperation, Lo grabbed one of the oversized boxes brought by the elves and hoisted it up himself, prompting Nahwu to shoot him a disapproving look.
"You really shouldn't have," she reproached lightly.
Lo, in an uncharacteristically helpful move, retorted, "Well, it's your fault for pag the ey! Where oh does your sister pn to stash all these treasures, anyway?"
It became increasingly apparent that all the items in tow were intended as gifts for Shorof, Nahwu's ailing sister.
As Nahwu struggled with the mountain of gifts, two elves with high-ranking elven official garments suddenly darted towards her like startled rabbits, their urgent voices cutting through the air.
"Princess Nahwu! Her Majesty the Queen summons you to the great meeting hall! The inal Saint has graced us with a visit!" one of them excimed.
Nahwu's eyes widened in disbelief. "U-Uncle Yukre? Granduncle Rekre? W-wait! Th-the who?!" she stammered, clearly taken aback by the news.
Lo, pletely clueless, chimed in, "Who?"
Ign his question, Nahwu quickly gathered her thoughts. "A-anyway, I've got to go!" she excimed urgently, ready to dash off to the meeting.
But before she could make her escape, Rekre turned his attention to the first prih a polite nod.
"You are also invited, Sir Inkor."
