Eleanor stood on the top floor, gazing at Saleen and Lex who sat under the fragrant tree. The singing had stopped, but the aftermath lingered on. Not only Saleen and Lex heard it, the soldiers downstairs, the swordsmen in the palace, and the mages also heard Eleanor's song. The area sunk into a faint melancholic atmosphere.
Eleanor was homesick, very homesick. She thought that an elf could forget the past events and was adaptive, just like the elders had said.
It did not turn out like that. When Eleanor gazed at Saleen's and Lex's silhouettes, she was not thinking of the marquis, she was actually pining for her first lover in the elvish plane. The marquis' fatal attraction had become a faint shadow, it was almost gone already. Her oldest memory had become increasingly clearer.
"Eleanor is thinking about home." Saleen broke the silence, but was still holding onto Lex's hand.
