The night in Arvalen was a living tapestry of dancing lights and sweet fragrances. The streets stretched like silver veins under the full moon, and the air was perfumed with forest spices, enchanted flowers, and the subtle scent of newly awakened magic. Elion and Kael walked side by side, their steps calm, like two unhurried travelers, absorbing the world around them as if savoring a forbidden fruit.
Elion's scarlet cloak trailed like a living flame across the ancient stones, and her laughter—clear and disarming—echoed through the alleys, confusing the gazes of those who saw them. Kael, dressed in simple but well-cut tunics, looked like a young lord newly arrived at court. Many watched them with curiosity, whispering among themselves. "A couple of nobles from outside?" some murmured. "He's too young... or is she too young?" others wondered.
Elion just smiled, aware of every thought, every whisper. She loved the confusion she caused.
