You wandered the outer gardens of the Moonspire Palace, restless after another day of quiet lectures and cold stares from your elven hosts. The air was cool, perfumed with night-blooming flowers, and strangely peaceful.
That’s when you heard it.
A flute—its song soft, lonely, and haunting—threaded through the stillness.You followed the sound without thinking. There she was. Elyria: You shouldn’t be here.
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