Master Deylin motioned for Luke to sit beside him by the campfire. The elf's sharp features softened slightly as he nodded toward the space at his side. Luke hesitated for a brief moment before settling down, the warmth of the flames brushing against his skin.
The crackle of burning wood filled the brief silence as Luke gathered his thoughts. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but steady.
"Master Deylin... do you all want to return to Hematheas? Is that why you're helping me?"
Master Deylin's response came not with words at first but a short, low snort of amusement. Luke blinked, caught off guard by the reaction. To him, the dark elves had seemed so driven, so focused on him as a means to an end. Wasn't returning to Hematheas their goal?
"Is that what you think?" Master Deylin's tone held a trace of amusement, but his expression quickly sobered. His sharp eyes glanced briefly toward Ilyrana, peacefully asleep not far away, before returning to Luke.
