Elias excused himself from the meeting, he stood by one of the castle's high windows, staring out at the bustling city below. The sun was setting, casting long shadows that crept over the kingdom. As he watched the people of Eldoria move about, preparing for the upcoming Festival of Light, his thoughts drifted to the Flarefolk. He hoped they were finding peace and solace in their new home. Despite everything that had happened, the memory of their pained faces lingered in his mind like a persistent shadow.
Elias's mind replayed the moments after his battle with Acedia, moments that felt as raw as fresh wounds. With King Alaric's possession revealed and the immediate danger averted, Elias had wasted no time. His first thought had been of the Flarefolk—the ones who had been enslaved and exploited under the influence of the collars that forced them to obey against their will.