The elves were tense, their eyes narrowing as they watched me, suspicion and disdain evident in every glance. Their distrust wasn't unfounded. I could feel their discomfort, their unease as they sensed the dark magic coiling around me like a living thing. The display of power from both Aurelia and me had shaken them, but not enough to dispel the centuries-old wariness toward those who dealt in necromancy. My creatures lurked in the shadows, their monstrous forms waiting for my command, but I knew bringing them out now would do more harm than good.
Aurelia stood tall beside me, her eyes fixed on the elven general. She was calm, composed, her aura still radiating the same fierce power she had unleashed in battle. Yet, despite her poise, I could sense the tension between her and the elven leaders. The queen's expression was unreadable, but the young elven monarch, Elaitharis, observed us with curiosity, her regal features betraying none of the uncertainty she must have felt.
