Finally, Eryndor's bright gaze fell upon Arden, who flinched slightly under the ancient look, and then upon Kaley.
Kaley had been staring with his mouth open, since the moment the elf appeared from the stone. He'd heard whispers, old stories, of the Elves of the Deep Woods—guardians, ancient, living hidden, almost a myth in the human kingdoms of today.
Seeing one appear from moonlight itself shattered his understanding of the world, making the very air around him feel thin and strange.
As the healing light touched him, easing his magic's drain and minor scrapes, the shock didn't fade, it grew stronger. He felt a warmth, yes, a relief from the strain of his magic, but his mind was spinning.
*Elves. They're real. He's real. And he just... healed us.*
