The moment they stepped out of the caravan, countless gazes turned toward them.
Elves lined the streets—tall, graceful, and unnervingly still. Their eyes followed every movement of the humans who had just entered their city. Some looked on with faint curiosity, others with quiet disdain, but most simply watched in silence, as if studying creatures they had only heard about in stories.
Edward could feel it—their eyes, their presence. Even the air felt different here, heavier yet cleaner, as if the forest itself were alive and watching.
Within moments, a small group of elves approached.
"Welcome to Valendell," said one of them. His voice was calm and deliberate. "My name is Elandir."
He wore armour unlike anything Edward had seen before—metallic yet light, engraved with swirling patterns that seemed to shift when the light hit them. His long pale hair swayed in the mountain breeze, and his features were sharp, symmetrical and almost unreal.
