Roy responded with a smile.
"Ah, maybe it really is like that."
She lay upon Soto's back, her fingers idly tracing the patterns of the scales. It was near dusk, and they traveled through a forest covered in fallen leaves, bathed in golden, gentle light.
Sermias remained silent for a moment, then began to recount the origin of the Elves.
In the beginning, the Light Elves were born from moonlight, and the Dark Elves were born in the embrace of the Earth Mother. They each lived, multiplied, and migrated, choosing places on the Continent to live in groups. Yasen became the homeland and cradle of the Light Elves, where the birth of each new life received the blessing of the moon, and the power of the moon always flowed within them. This power granted them longer lives and purer souls.
"But the moon did not bless me."
Sermias held the falling maple leaf between his fingers, gently rubbing it, letting the dark red sap wet his fingertips.
