After his conversation with D3, Chiron changed his clothes, trading blood-stained robes for something clean and unassuming. With a flick of his wrist, a portal unfolded before him—thin, precise, and familiar.
He stepped through.
The world shifted, and he emerged back within the Elven Kingdom.
This was only possible because he had been here before.
The land remembered him because he left a spiritual prressure mark here.
As Chiron stabilized his footing, his gaze immediately found Prince Silmarien—no, King Silmarien now—seated comfortably in a high-backed chair.
A porcelain cup of tea rested between slender fingers, steam curling lazily upward. He looked entirely at ease, as if he had been waiting for this moment all along.
Chiron walked in without ceremony.
One look at Silmarien's expression made him chuckle. "What's that face?" Chiron said lightly. "Did you miss me?"
