Avalon was an island nation to begin with, and the Silver and Tin Palace in the capital, Glass Island, was built on an island within the island.
At the front end of Avalon Bridge, which led to the Silver and Tin Palace, an old elf stood ramrod straight. His skin was like tree bark, and his oily green pupils resembled those of a wild wolf. Beneath the winter night, his tall, thin figure looked like a tree.
"I'll see you this far."
The old steward instructed the maid, Lily, "Take good care of Young Master Iver."
"Yes, Mr. Oswald."
Lily answered respectfully.
Under the old steward's watchful gaze, she pushed Iver's wheelchair onto the bridge.
In early winter, the sun set early. The deep-blue night sky had yet to darken completely, and the sapphire-like lake on either side of the bridge shimmered beautifully beneath the streetlamps.
The tall white griffins were like stone lions. As night fell, they quietly landed on the stone platforms beside the streetlamps.
Whenever Iver passed by, some of the white griffins would open their eyes and look at him. Their pupils were either gemlike red or blue, crystal clear and reflecting the colors of the lights.
Their pure-white feathers reflected the orange-yellow glow of the streetlamps, shining with a sacred radiance.
"How beautiful..."
The flaxen-haired girl with long, curly hair was visiting this place for the first time as well.
Immersed in the beautiful sight, she couldn't help saying, "It reminds me of your eyes."
"...What did you say?"
Iver, who had suddenly been flirted with, failed to react for a moment. "The griffins?"
But Lily didn't blush. She merely said matter-of-factly, "I was talking about the color of the lake. It's very similar to the color of Young Master Iver's eyes."
"I see."
At