The next day, at first light, the morning mist had yet to clear.
Ansu and Altina slipped past the guards and quietly left the Elven Royal Palace.
Altina wore a gray cloak, disguised as an ordinary elven girl among the migrants. Ansu had, for once, reshaped himself a body. He held her hand for real as he walked beside her.
They strolled along the broad streets of the Elven Royal Court.
The Elven Royal Court was a city built around the Divine Tree. Bridges and walkways spanned its massive branches, elegant buildings rose at different heights, and beautiful sky gardens dotted the upper reaches.
The grim tension of two weeks ago was slowly fading.
Vendors opened their shops along the streets. The scent of food drifted through the air, and the blacksmiths' hammers rang without pause. At last, the vast city felt alive again.
Altina was soon captivated. She led Ansu from shop to shop.
"Elven smithing is the best!" She stopped in front of a weapons shop and tugged him closer. "We're especially good at making enchanted equipment from rare metals like adamantine and mithril. Ghost Master, do you want to take a weapon home as a souvenir?"
Ansu thought for a moment. "I thought everyone said dwarves were the finest smiths."
"Who said that?" Altina's brows shot up. "How could dwarves compare to elves? The gods crafted elves with care. We're the most perfect, most elegant race."
"Then what about dwarves?" Ansu asked curiously.
"Pfft. Dwarves?" Altina's voice dripped with disdain. "The gods used up all the good materials, then grabbed the leftover scraps, mixed in a bit of goblin and troll and other ugly things, and slapped the dwarves together."
"Well, damn..." Ansu's mouth twitched.
Another entry for the dwarves' Book of Grudges.
Elves really did insult