Exile

At the edge of the square, a soft-featured elven woman carried a box of untouched food as she briskly approached a hooded man with a night owl perched on his shoulder.

Sensing her approach, the night owl silently turned its head one hundred and eighty degrees, its yellow eyes coldly fixed on the approaching elf.

"Fenmarel Mestarine!"

The female elf slowed her pace. Her lips did not move, but Telepathy had already pierced into the man's mind.

"It's been centuries since anyone called me by my full name. Haven't you always called me the Lone Wolf?" The man did not turn around. He speared a piece of grilled fish with a cheap wooden fork, shoved it into his mouth, and crushed even the bones between his teeth.

"Is that why?" The female elf circled around in front of him and stared at him expressionlessly.

"You mean the Spirit Network?" The man raised his head and glanced at her.

"What did Lolth promise you?" Anger and confusion filled the female elf's eyes.

"See? You're still as arrogant as ever. In your hearts, I was never trusted. The moment something went wrong, you immediately branded me a traitor." The man's tone remained calm.

The female elf steadied herself and shook her head slightly. "But your actions already constitute betrayal."

"Who did I betray? I merely threw the trouble away and let someone else deal with it." The man's face remained expressionless as he continued eating, wasting neither a shred of vegetable nor a drop of sauce.

"Anse is our ally, not trouble. If this isn't betrayal, then what is? The Seldarine's reputation has been dragged through the mud, and you've even offended the Platinum Dragon God..."

"What reputation does the Seldarine have?" the man interrupted. "Don't you understand even now? The Seldarine