The ports gleamed with the aureola of the sun, and the vast azure curvature displayed the edge of the land. From space, the last hues of brown and green were fading behind the twilight zone. Kroid sat in a metal chair, a book titled "Chronicles of Past Years" by Nestor at his side, watching his homeland sink beneath the horizon, all of Europe dipping into slumber while the sun crossed over the Iberian Peninsula, casting the final glimmers on this ancient land.
"Your breakfast is getting cold, dear."
The tall man turned around, a smile briefly playing across his lips. Sicape came over and slapped the back of his hand, making him put down the metal flask.
With raised eyebrows, the pointed-eared Lady Elf looked at her boyfriend. Kroid chuckled and, taking her hand, leaned back to kiss her.
