A battlefield was one thing, but this place- this was tradition. The crucible where centuries of elven warriors had not only sharpened their blades but also forged the spirit of their people.
And now, somehow with fate's cunning move, Auren stood here.
He'd been granted special permission to train in Kadena.
More than that- Queen Elarya herself seems to had encouraged it.
After the battle with Vulkris, she had decreed that Auren, human or not, had earned the right to stand among them.
And for Auren, it still felt surreal.
Two Goldhair warriors guarded the outer archway, clad in ceremonial Runesteel armor that shimmered faintly with woven enchantments. Their spears gleamed with a faint magical aura, humming with readiness. Their expressions were silent, watchful, and gave nothing away. Stoic and firm like statues.
As Auren and Jaira approached, the guards' piercing eyes locked on him. The tension in the air crackled for a moment. Like a string drawn between stranger and sword.
