In front of the grave of the High Elves, there were two males who seemed to be in their own quiet world, unaffected by the bustle of their surroundings.
"How are you feeling?" Draven asked, his voice as usual dignified but held genuine care for the young elf who he raised like his own family.
"I am fine," Erlos replied.
Silence enveloped the two.
"Have I told you before that you look just like your father now, the leader of the High Elves, Elror?"
Erlos looked at Draven. "Really?"
Draven nodded. "But your personality is like your mother's, Alarielle."
"That's good to know."
"You are brave and strong like your parents. They would be proud to know you grew up this well."
"I am sure they will give that credit to you."
"I would have accepted it gladly as raising a trouble into a fine young elf was not an easy task," Draven said, only to have Erlos narrow his eyes at him.
