The entrance to the noble elder's mansion was a monument to opulent excess. Forged iron, painstakingly sculpted into swirling vines and mythical beasts, gleamed under the soft morning sun. Two colossal pillars, topped with intricate carvings that whispered of forgotten grandeur, flanked the colossal gates. Yet, the air of serene majesty was shattered by the discordant symphony of a heated argument.Seraphina, her usually composed face etched with frustration, stood toe-to-toe with a hulking guard. His polished silver spear, emblazoned with the elder's crest, danced menacingly in his grip. "I said, scram!" he bellowed, his voice laced with the authority of a man accustomed to blind obedience."There's been a misunderstanding," Seraphina pleaded, her voice strained but resolute. "We need to see the Elder."