On the rooftop across from the manor, the elf was perched on the edge of the eaves, long legs swinging idly in the air.
"She reminds me of you when you were young," said an elderly voice from behind her. "Only, she's much cuter."
From the shadow behind her, a dwarf stepped out. She was barely as tall as the elf's shin, her silver hair coiled into a neat bun.
"Isn't she one of the apprentices you picked for me?" she demanded.
Lightchaser curled her lip in irritation. "What do you mean, your apprentice? That's my apprentice. I'm still looking for yours."
The dwarf kicked at her leg. Lightchaser dodged it easily.
"You messaged me, said you found three promising brats and I could take my pick. So where are the other two?"
Lightchaser went completely silent.
The dwarf sneered. "With one word, I could have Barthemon stop helping with that little 'training game' you've arranged."
Knowing full well what her mentor was like, Lightchaser dropped the act. "...What do you want?"
