Chapter Thirteen
The Perfect Victim
Unknown to the foolish elves in their pitiful village nestled in the heart of Vila Eadros, Vlazkashad watched in the deepening darkness, as a hunter observes his prey. Only his pale face hinted at his presence in the shadows. Although he shared the same angular features and delicately pointed ears with his mortal enemies, no one would ever mistake him for a shadvar—an elf. It was his eyes that gave him away. They were twin pits of utter darkness with perhaps the slightest tinge of blood spilled at midnight.
Even among his own kind, Vlaz was unique. The subservient drakhal standing in nervous attendance only confirmed it. Vlaz was Orag—the First, eldest of his kind. Adan, he supposed one would call him in the tongue they had all spoken when the world w
