Illuminating the prayer altar was the afternoon sun; the light diffused into the marbled floor, making the Elf walk inside the premise and admire the surrounding.
"How admirable of you humans," said she, with her green eyes scanning the place. Trailing behind her were priests and priestesses; their skin was already filled with creases and wrinkles... however, she was still a hundred years older than they were.
Tialha was an elf.
Or precisely, she was one of the elves that were still in contact with the mortal world even after the fallen war.
Tialha of Alfheim--that was her name.
As she arrived at the end of the altar, an old man wearing the most golden pattern in his robes greeted her with a kind smile painted on his face. Tialha knew this man; she met him before, but he was just a small child back then.
