Months slipped by in the shadows, and on the eve of one of the most anticipated events among the high elves, Enel found himself returning from his nightly training, just as he had countless times before.
The moon hung low, casting long silver beams across the palace as Enel slipped silently through the dense shadows. His hands and feet moved with fluid precision, gliding up the palace walls, fingertips brushing against the stone's cool surface. As he scaled the walls, he shifted his weight with grace, twisting mid-air in a controlled flip to avoid a rune-lit boundary.
