At first, the chamber was silent.
The two elves lay sprawled like statues toppled from a temple, their eyes glazed and wide, their bodies unnervingly still.
Many in the court thought them dead.
And then, one shuddered.
A rasp of air tore from his throat, harsh, shallow.
The other followed, a twitch racing across his cheek as though each nerve had only just remembered how to function.
Their limbs jerked erratically before settling into spasms, and with horror the court realized: they were alive.
Alive, but ruined.
The Elves dragged themselves onto their elbows, their faces pale and clammy, their fine robes stained with sweat.
Their eyes darted about the hall, not in defiance, not even in anger, but with the dull panic of animals that had been cornered too many times.
And in those eyes there was no pride left.
Only the terror of men who had glimpsed a power they were never meant to comprehend.
