A tall elf stood at the base of one of the great trees.
Her robes were woven from fibers that shimmered softly, like leaves catching moonlight.
She said nothing, but inclined her head slowly as he approached.
Argolaith stopped a few steps away.
He nodded politely, unsure if she would speak first.
She didn't—not with words.
Instead, she extended a hand, palm up, and magic shimmered faintly in the air between them.
It wasn't a spell, just a presence.
A silent invitation.
He reached out and let his fingers brush hers—just enough to feel the magic.
It was calm. Observant. Testing him, but not threatening.
After a few breaths, it faded, and the elf stepped aside.
He understood. He was allowed to enter.
Not as one of them. Not yet. But as someone who had been seen.
That was enough.
He wandered slowly through the heart of the village.
Some of the homes above had figures now—slim shapes moving through walkways of bark and vine.
They watched him with soft eyes. None spoke.
