As Arlomė stepped from the palace entrance out into the city, she shaded her clear blue eyes with one slender hand taking in the hustle and bustle of Kanak in the morning. With her morning tasks for Queen Bekah completed, she wished to spend some time in the temple. The walk to the temple would be a short one, and the elf welcomed the warm sunlight on her cheeks. The wind rustled her deep purple robes and carried the voices of the people that filled the streets to her ears. Kanak was particularly busy this morning as the citizens of Pashtia still had words of the previous evenings banquet on their lips, and they brought their activities to the market to pass along the rumors heard the night before.
As she strode gracefully along the street, Arlomė paid the humans idle chatter no heed for she had more pressing matters traversing her mind. The King and Queen had had a heated discussion with the Emissary at the banquet. The three were so emersed in conversation they had forgotten the elven woman was so close, and Arlomės keen ears heard almost every word. The Emissary had spoken about the Elves of his land, and even though she had not worried about the other Elven kindreds, what he said startled her and her heart had quickened within her chest. She sorely wished Elrigon had come home after the banquet as she wished to share what she had heard with him, and she hoped she might see him coming around a corner on his noble steed. The Emissary had clearly not wished to share the turmoil between the mortals of the West and the Elves, and what was this evil the Elves brought. Arlomė shivered despite the suns warmth as she remembered the touch of the Emissarys lips to her hand.
Lost in her thoughts, Arlomė was surprised to find herself at the temples entrance, and unfortunately no Elven General had crossed her path. The elf paused before the large wooden doors, and then slowly pushed them apart. Light streamed into the dim building from the growing crack between the doors, and the elf delicately slipped through as she watched the dust filled air dance in the rays. After letting her eyes adjust to the dimness, Arlomė shut the tall doors and walked carefully toward the sanctuary for Rhais. As she approached the beautiful statue of the goddess, she noticed the form of the High Priestess crumpled in her humbleness before Rhais. Arlomė halted, momentarily, feeling slightly uncomfortable at seeing the private moment. Silently, she stepped forward and knelt before the statue.
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