All those present suddenly ceased their conversation to listen to the soft voice of the pale-skinned Elf with raven-black hair.
Her sorrowful song left them all captivated, and they remained silent until she concluded.
"Marvelous.
Elves truly are the greatest creators." Olderico remarked, enraptured by the Elven melody.
"I... remember this song.
My father used to sing it to me..." Cyn'Thia reminisced a memory from long ago.
However, Fys'Thil, having concluded her song, appeared to be weeping.
"It's alright... you did well...
He cannot hear us here..." Van'Aryon consoled his wife in a whisper, although his own discomfort was palpable.
Fys'Thil wept more vehemently, bowing her head.
As the crowd watched the couple in confusion, Jorael approached and asked gently:
"Is there an issue I may assist with?"
Van'Aryon looked into Jorael's eyes slowly, fear seemingly gripping him as he responded:
