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Chapter 11 - Zārok
The fire crackled with Elven magic, its flames shifting from orange-yellow to white, then to green as the Elves chanted, their voices rising and falling in rhythm as they walked in a circle around the fire. Zārok sat on one of the benches just outside the Elven circle, where those not actively participating in the ceremony watched in respectful silence. The sun was beginning its final descent of the day, casting bright orange and pink hues across the sky. Zārok's gaze drifted across the gathering, eventually settling on the fae woman. She was breathtaking, in an unconventional way. Her mismatched eyes—one golden, the other clouded grey—stood out against her smooth skin, and her full lips contrasted with the sharp angles of her features. Her hair, darker than even the shadows he commanded,
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