>>5892783>>5892627>>5892597“Hey, uh…”
You are immediately caught off-guard by how loud your voice is in the otherwise nearly-silent chamber. Several eladrin turn from their rectangular prisms to regard you, causing your face to warm. You ignore the embarrassment, though, as the one closest to you—the one whose attention you’d meant to attract—has also looked your way.
“What’s your name?” you whisper.
The more-masculine-than-average eladrin looks your way and, after a moment’s consideration says: “Mithrel.”
“I’m Ezreal,” you introduce yourself, “from Dappulyet. Uh, in the Sylvan Realms.”
He says nothing.
“On Earth,” you add.
“I know where the Sylvan Realms are located,” he notes.
The eladrin male—man? elfman? you’re not sure what the right word is for these ‘high’ elves—seems faintly amused at your awkwardness in these unfamiliar environs. He is polite, though, and his voice never raises above a relative whisper, yet carries with crystal clarity. He’s nothing special next to a literal goddess but, as with Clanirae, there really is a sense that this is a greater and more refined being you’re dealing with.
“How can I help?” Mithrel asks.
“I was wondering what you’re all doing, with these rectangular… Uh…”
“Marqs,” he provides. “More properly, ml'aen marqui, or ‘marqs’ for short. They are a scrying-stone, for viewing the world below in greater detail at a glance.”
“I can see that,” you reply. “But why THESE details? Why are you tracking… Animals, and people?”
Mithrel looks at you strangely, as if you had asked something very silly or peculiar, though he does not mock you as he answers: “We are monitoring the peace. Maintaining the pact.”
You frown. The pact… You’ve heard tell of this ‘pact’ a few times now, but you still don’t understand it entirely.
“What does the pact have to do with birds, or butterflies, or… Elves and men?”
“Everything,” Mithrel says simply and patiently. “Each lifeform which is born on earth carries a soul within itself… A spirit.”
