The road back to the hotel was quiet, the moonlight spilling like silver paint over the stone streets. Occasionally, a patrol passed by, their torches flickering against the dark. Each time they spotted Luciel and his companions, they took one look at their clothes and equipment, then quickly turned away without a word.
Elara, walking behind, bit her lip for a long while before blurting out, "Luciel, why don't you want to be the Lord of the Moon Tribe?"
Luciel chuckled softly. "I was wondering when you'd finally ask."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced sideways at her, his expression faintly amused. "Tell me, Elara—what do you think the benefits are of becoming the Moon Tribe's leader?"
"The benefits?" Elara tilted her head and began counting on her fingers. "Well, for starters, you wouldn't have to worry about starving. You'd have people to protect you, and there's plenty of water by the lake. Sounds like a good deal to me."
