The square was full of young elves, whose burning eyes reflected a mixture of hope and frustration. The gentle wind rustled through the surrounding trees, but the feeling of tension in the air could not be ignored. The rumor that had started in the halls of Vel'Haran was now spreading like wildfire throughout Sylvandor. In just a few days, Evelyn's name had gone from a symbol of hope to the target of accusations.
All thanks, of course, to the Noble Faction who began spreading all sorts of nonsense about her...
On the steps of the ancient forest temple, the youngest leader of the rebel faction, Mirdhael, stepped up to the makeshift podium, facing the elves who had gathered to hear him. His voice, although young, carried a strength that captivated those who listened. He stood up with a serious countenance, and his words spread like seeds ready to sprout.
Of course, it was all because of Faeron Vel'Aeth, the one who had started smoking the young elves...
