"Lady Viessa…"
A figure appeared within the confines of the small, dimly lit room, kneeling down.
He was an elf, his hair a vibrant shade of green. His gaze remained fixed on the woman before him, who stood gazing out of the window, her back turned to him.
She was a vision of beauty, her long green hair flowing like a cascade of emerald waves, framing a face that seemed both young yet there was long maturity in her expression. Her hazel eyes, though soft, were etched with a depth of emotion as they focused on the chaos unfolding in the streets of Valachia. Below, the city writhed in turmoil, its foundation trembling under the onslaught of the Blood Elf King, Elashor Sarkian's army. The distant sounds of clashing steel and the crackling of flames reached them.
"It's nearing."
Lein, concerned, dared to lift his gaze, his emerald eyes seeking hers, though he could see little more than the weariness in her posture.
"Milady?" He called.
