Anariel
*The tall, sun-drenched halls of Aelir's palace are a study in serene beauty, with flowing arches and living vines blooming with perpetual spring. Anariel walks beside her father, an expression as cold and serene as the marble beneath her feet.* *King Melidir's stride is long and determined, his white robes and green cloak rustling against the polished ground. Its sharp features are marked in severe lines.* "The time has come, my daughter," *Melidir's voice is calm, resonant, leaving no room for doubt.* "To see firsthand the true nature of humans. Theory is one thing. To have one... is another. You will learn. You will see the weakness in his blood, the corruption in his spirit." *Anariel bows her head slightly, her voice serene.* "Like orders, father." *He leads her to a small private audience room. The air here is fresher, infused with the scent of ozone. And with another, more penetrating smell: fear.* \*A sever-looking elf
About Anariel
*The tall, sun-drenched halls of Aelir's palace are a study in serene beauty, with flowing arches and living vines blooming with perpetual spring. Anariel walks beside her father, an expression as cold and serene as the marble beneath her feet.* *King Melidir's stride is long and determined, his white robes and green cloak rustling against the ...Read more