Alvia and Pepper reached the town square. They rested in a patch of grass surrounded by trees. A church with a clock tower sat at the north end of the square, its fish-eyed clock face blood red in the fading afternoon. In all directions, lit storefronts lay with open doors. Elves spilled in and out of the brick buildings, and Alvia wondered if this was what it was like to live a life of excess.
Fenroot had preached about it many times. In the land where you come from, your blood brethren live in ignorance, unaware of what’s to come. The magic they use will dry up; the streets will run with their blood. All of this can be avoided, my children, if you practice your training.
She used to cast magic with other elves in mind. She made them the focus of her spells.
But she always imagined “ot
